


Creatures

by Cixalea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, Platonic Relationships, ace family, fantasy!au, moosecentaur!Matthew, mythological creatures!AU, pure and innocent happiness, werecat!Arthur, winged!Alfred, winged!Francis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cixalea/pseuds/Cixalea
Summary: Werecats and Mermaids and Minotaurs. It doesn't matter what's out there. Matthew is going to protect his little brother—even if they're different species.Cross-posted from fanfic.net.





	1. 1

Matthew, being younger and smaller than most of the other children, preferred to play by himself. Roughhousing just wasn't his favorite game –especially after one of the other calves bloodied his nose last spring with a well-placed buck of his back hooves. The young boy had other ideas of entertainment –adventure!

The purple-eyed calf clopped over to his mother and grabbed at the end of her shirt (woven herself) to get her attention when he became distracted by the Birds that flew overhead.

"Yes, Matthew?" his mother asked, bowing out of her conversation with the other cows temporarily to address her son.

Matthew's mother was beautiful, and the whole herd knew it except her. She would do her long, curly, blonde hair up and lace it with flowers and delicate vines insisting that she was having a  _bad_  hair day. She would mix just the right paint to compliment her lavender eyes, laughing at what a mess she claimed to look. The other women would just joke with her and insist kindly that she was beautiful, when, behind her back, they would stamp their hooves, envious of her effortless beauty.

Matthew was still distracted as he watched the Birds fly overhead against the gray, brooding sky even as his mother spoke, their brightly colored wings flapping to propel their human-like bodies through the air like angels.

His mother hummed happily to herself at her doe-eyed boy.

"He's always loved watching the Bird flocks. Such a curious little thing," she mused, as the other women chuckled but remained glad that their children had some sense not to occupy themselves with such frivolous pastimes.

"Just don't be gone long, dear."

Matthew's mother kissed him on the head and this jolted him back to earth. It was like his mom could read his mind or something! He smiled brightly, gave his mother a hug, and trotted away.

The young Centaur's half-siblings didn't even glance his direction as his passed by. Matthew's herd was made up of females, called cows, led by the one and only adult male in the herd, called the bull. The bull was in charge so, as well as determining herd movements, he got to father all the calves of the females in the herd. Thus Matthew, like all the other children, were half-siblings of each other and sons of the bull. It was an unusual social dynamic, but he was born into it. He was use to the concept.

However, he did dread when he would be kicked out of the herd once he was of age. He would have to challenge a bull of another herd and then take charge of that harem of females if he ever wanted to have kids. Or he could choose to fly it solo and possibly get eaten by the many predators that stalked the area. For the time being, he would just enjoy being a calf exploring the woods.

Matthew found he loved lots of things. He loved the serenity of the woods. He loved listening to the crickets tell tales in the tall grass and stamping hoof prints in the dirt. That's when he heard something he did not love.

It was the sound of something crying. Matthew's long ears perked up as he kept his four hooves very still to listen harder for the sound. He heard it once more.

His herd communicated over distance by sound just like many other species. Even though this didn't sound like a Centaur's noise, it could be important. When the cry sounded thrice, he knew it was a distress call and headed toward it.

His sensitive ears led him straight and true as he found himself staring down at a little, weeping pile of flesh and feathers. It was a tiny Bird chick. His wings were so small, merely a clump of plumages. Did he fall out of his nest?

He got closer and the baby Bird seemed to hear his hoof-steps. He rolled to face the Centaur calf and chirped desperately at him in infant tongue. He flapped his runt wings pathetically and raised his arms up for Matthew to take him. The chick's eyes were watery and wide with fright. His chest rose and fell much too quickly. He was gasping for breath as panic stole it from him.

He reached up toward Matthew with more and more urgency, calling out with louder and louder squawks the longer he was left on the ground. Though the chick could not speak, there was no doubt he would have said, "Help me! Please! I'm scared! Don't leave me! Pick me up and guard me! I don't know who you are, but I need you!  _Please!"_

Matthew's heart broke. With effort, he folded his legs in and lay down so that he could pick up the little chick. (The curse of the Centaur was not being able to pick things up directly off the ground. Their torsos just can't bend far enough and their arms aren't long enough to compensate for the length of their stick-like, equine legs.) With the baby uneasily in his arms, he stood up, glad that the child stopped making that horrible, heart-wrenching noise.

Matthew had never held a baby before. Even when Centaur calves are born, they are never held by their mothers. That's not to say they were neglected or something terrible. Calves are born with legs that strengthen quickly so that they are able to walk on their own even a few hours after birth. Besides, calves are too big and awkward to be held. So, Matthew had truly had no idea how to hold a baby anything before. He wouldn't have even known to pick the baby up in the first place if not for the infant's obvious sign language.

Still, he wasn't sure where to hold him so he was secure and safe. He tried to avoid squishing the wings. He shifted the chick in his arms, testing out various arrangements. His biggest worry was that he would fatigue from holding the chick too long and he would slip, but a little of the chick's weight was relieved by the chick himself as he clung on to the calf's shirt like a lifeline. Little fingers that held almost no dissimilarity from his own gripped tight and sure, surprisingly strong for something so young.

He eventually opted for letting the chick lean on his collarbone and sort of hugging him. The baby seemed to like his position and relaxed into it, fidgeting around only a moment until he felt most comfortable.

The calf could now feel the fluttering heartbeat of the tiny Bird pumping wildly against his chest as he breathed rapidly. Matthew heard every breath the chick released as he exhaled near his ear through his nose, each breath becoming more and more calm as his fear was dissipating. Then the chick felt something tickle his forehead.

The Bird looked up and became temporarily distracted by the curl of hair that sprouted off Matthew's forehead. He relinquished one hand from its death grip on the calf and batted at the foreign string of hair and fluttered his wings in excitement as it bounced back and forth. Matthew returned the favor and flicked at the little tuff of hair that popped up off a cowlick on his hairline. The baby giggled, latching on to his finger, and the tears finally stopped their spawning.

Matthew smiled, but, as he looked around, he could not find any other Birds. He looked up to see if he could find the nest he had fallen out of, but his view was blocked by dense foliage.

"Hello? Is anyone up there?"

With no response, Matthew was at a loss. Maybe the parents were out hunting? Or what if they forgot about him? Surely they would come back soon. It was going to rain by the looks of the clouds.

He gave one good sweep with his eyes of the tall trees then headed back to his herd. Surely they would know where the other Birds had gone. And, if not, they would know what to do. After all, what could just a calf know about such things?

When he approached the clearing where his herd had been grazing, he found they were not there anymore. Strange. He must have been in the woods longer than he intended. They might have moved on, but they couldn't have been more than a little ways ahead. The bull just must have decided it was time to find shelter from the obviously-approaching rain. They wouldn't just _leave_  him.

Matthew let out a bawl. It was the type of call that Centaurs used to locate their herd. Because he was a calf, his call was the calf-version -much higher and shriller- but they would answer him. Yet, despite his ears propped up as high as they would go, he only heard one reply: the warning call.

The call was deep and desperate. Fear clenched his heart. What did it mean? Did it mean he should stay away? Or did that mean that he should hurry the heck up and catch up to them? Deciding it would be best to stay with the herd, he followed after the sound.

He kept in the direction for a good while before he let out another exhausted bawl. The baby was getting heavy in his arms, and, being smarter than the average calf, he knew the farther he got away from where he found the Bird, the less likely it was that they would be able to find where his parents were. This time, he heard no warning call. No reply at all. Well, no reply from a Centaur.

"Are you lost, poppet?"

Matthew turned toward a tree, where it shaded a blond human. He slowly started to approach, his thick eyebrows cresting unsettling green eyes.

A chill ripped its way through the young calf. He wasn't sure why, but he knew something wasn't right. He gripped the baby Bird to himself tighter as the human continued to approach.

"What's the matter?" He noticed the calf's uneasiness. "My name's Arthur. I don't bite."

Matthew tried to calm himself down. The human seemed harmless. They didn't hunt Centaur, right? Maybe Matthew just wasn't use to seeing humans this far out in the wilderness? But his mother said that the humans tended to stick to the towns and didn't usually travel alone. Everything about this seemed wrong. Never more did he wish he was back with the herd where he could rely on a hundred others' experiences, and he could hide behind his mother's legs.

"When I'm in my Second form, that is."

That's when Matthew saw him shift. He crouched down as light yellow fur rippled over him, adding a tail to the end and fangs to the front. This human was no human at all. He was a Werecat. Unlike humans, Werecats very regularly hunted Centaur. The calf's purple eyes widened as he slowly backed away.

"M-mom!" His voice stuttered as panic began to constrict his heart.

The cat, now showing no resemblance of human features, rolled his back, accenting sharp, powerful shoulder blades, snarled, and leapt toward Matthew. The calf turned, hooves scraping desperately for traction against the ground, and galloped as fast as he could.

"Mom! Help me!  _Mom!"_

He didn't know where he was going, but he was doing anything he could to get away from the Werecat. The Bird chick started to cry as he sensed danger he didn't understand and because Matthew's grip on him was as unforgiving as iron, crushing him slightly.

The fully-grown Werecat was gaining fast on the Centaur calf. Matthew only barely kept out of reach. That was, until he found himself trapped at a wall of rock with nowhere to run.

The calf didn't turn around but collapsed to the ground. He covered the small infant with his own flesh, the only way he knew he could protect the chick, as he braced for the end.

He felt pain, sure. But it wasn't nearly the intensity of what he'd thought it would be. In fact, he wondered if the Werecat even broke skin.

Matthew brought himself out of his hunched-over position to see that the Werecat was now in his human form again and using his dull, human teeth to bite Matthew's side instead of his canines. It was more like a pinch than a bite, really.

If it were not so serious, he would have laughed.

The Werecat opened his eyes, releasing Matthew, and looked at himself, noticing hands instead of paws. Getting red from embarrassment, he stomped off raving at the heavens.

"Blast it! Blast it  _all_! Why does this  _always happen_?!"

He kicked at the sticks on the ground and picked up a few rocks to chuck as far as he could in his anger.

"A-are you alright?" Matthew said, trembling and panting, working hard to keep his heart in the chest cavity where it belonged.

"Don't patronize me! I'm perfectly fine! Just  _peachy_!" He yelled as he ran a frustrated hand through his wild hair.

The Werecat threw himself to the ground and closed his eyes to concentrate.

"Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on! Come! _On_!"

When nothing happened, he simply gave up and flopped to the ground on his belly. Matthew stared at him.

" _Momma, why do they try to kill us?" He gripped her hand like it was the only thing keeping him from evaporating into a poof of fear. "Why are they so evil?"_

_Matthew's mother held him close as she ushered him down to sit by her on the soft grass. The bull moose was making the rounds to make sure everyone else was alright. They would be safe for now._

_Matthew wiped his tears on his sleeve and sniffled some more. She pulled him into an embrace, shushing him comfortingly and urged his heart to calm._

" _Matthew, listen to me. No one is evil. Everyone has good in them."_

" _But they_ killed _Alfred."_

" _Baby, you misunderstand. Why do you graze on the foliage? Why do you eat plants?"_

" _So I can grow up to be big and strong just like you always say."_

" _Exactly. Those Wolves that attacked our herd probably had little ones too. Some of them might not be much younger than you. Do you think they should have the right to grow up big and strong too?"_

"… _Yeah."_

" _Of course. It is sad that not everyone can eat plants like us, but that's the way they were made. It is sad that they killed Alfred. He was a good friend to you, and a wonderful, young calf. We will all mourn for him. But that does not mean that those Wolves were evil."_

" _They were just…trying to live?"_

" _And more importantly they are other living creatures with hopes and problems and loves and families –just like you and just like me. Never forget that."_

"Are you s-sure you don't need help?" Matthew asked, remembering his mother's kind instructions.

"Leave me alone." Arthur's voice was muffled from his mouth being smooshed into the ground pathetically. Then he turned his head so it still rested on the ground and he could see the Centaur.

"Why the heck do you have a Bird chick with you?"

Matthew looked down at his hooves.

"I-I found him in the woods. I was going to try to find his flock 'cause that's what a big brother would do, eh?"

Arthur's thick eyebrows furrowed.

"I've always wanted a blood brother," Matthew continued, "but, in the herd, all I have are half-siblings. So, I figured, what's the difference with this guy? I can still be his older brother and bring him back to his mommy and daddy. I'm sure they miss him."

Arthur drew himself up and sat with his legs and arms crossed.

"Well, I doubt you'll find the flock, and I doubt even more that its parents are missing it," Arthur snorted.

"What?" Matthew's jaw dropped. "How could you  _say_  that?"

"Don't look at me like that, lad. I'm just speaking from what I know. It's probably hard for you to understand. Centaur are very protective of their young. The Birds, however, are not as caring. They're a rather cruel race really."

He rose to his feet and walked closer to Matthew who, still having nowhere to flee, shuffled to press himself farther into the rock side. Yet, the Werecat made no move to harm either of them. Rather, he continued talking as he looked them both over.

"When Bird eggs are hatched, the bigger chick will often push the smaller chick out of the nest in order to get their full parents' attention and food. Or, he could have just tumbled out himself. Either way, the parents treat it like survival of the fittest and don't give a care in the world about a chick that falls from the nest. Frankly, all they're good for is a quick snack."

Matthew's eyes started to water with pity for the poor baby Bird. He couldn't fathom what he would do, would happen to him if his mother just  _abandoned_  him.

That's when the clouds decided that that exact moment would be the perfect time to release the rains.

"Of course." Arthur flung his arms out in exasperation. "Just as I thought the day couldn't get any  _worse_!"

The Werecat wrapped his arms around himself and headed off without so much as a goodbye. Matthew gathered the chick up and found Arthur was retreating to a cave in a part of the cliff face farther down. Seeing as he had little other choice, he followed him inside -trying to be brave.

Arthur wasn't too happy to hear the clip-clop of little Centaur hooves on the floor of his den. He cursed himself.

"You've mocked me enough! Why are you here? What do you think you're doing? Get out!"

The calf tried not to let his voice tremble but it was difficult as he explained, "My name's Matthew, and, um, I need to get Alfred out of the rain. And since you seem to have…trouble transforming, I figured you wouldn't be able to prevent us- well, that you would be  _gracious_  enough to allow us- to stay…here? Just until the storm passes?" His voice decrescendo-ed into a mere whisper by the end.

"Don't mistake my speech as kindness, boy. I just didn't want you to have any false hope about finding that chick's parents. You're awfully hard to demoralize though – _wait_." Arthur snapped his head toward him and frowned. "Did you just  _name it_?"

Matthew blushed and couldn't meet his eyes. "Y-yeah."

He couldn't very well call the little Bird "baby" forever.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I can still kill you both in this form."

"But it would be rather hard to eat us, eh?"

"I-I can still make you go back into the storm!"

Then Matthew folded his legs in and lay down on the cold, stone floor of the cave. He smiled challengingly.

The Werecat gritted his teeth and marched over. Kneeling down he tried to shove the calf out, but he only barely budged. He tried again, using his shoulder this time, but only succeeded in making himself look like an idiot the way his feet were sliding on the ground, having no traction on the damp cave floor.

Arthur eventually gave up, surrendering to the fact that his Second form's strength just couldn't move the much bigger and heavier Centaur calf.

"You know what? I can just wait until you're asleep. Surely by then I'll be able to turn back into my First form and eat you." He wiped his hands off on his pants and retreated to the back of the cave matter-of-factly.

Matthew shrugged as Alfred gurgled into his shirt, gnawing on the collar.

"I just won't sleep then."

Arthur looked toward the foolish calf and Matthew thought he saw a prick of emotion, but he turned around in a huff to pace angrily around the cave.

A good fifteen minutes passed. The time was spent by Arthur flip-flopping between trying to transform and wearing a path through the cave floor with his angry pacing.

"I'm off to hunt. Just because you're a calf, I'll let you have this one chance. If you're not out of this cave by the time I get back, I'm eating you there and then," Arthur blurted eventually.

Then the Werecat stalked out, despite the fact it was still raining.

Matthew waved him off, angelic smirk ever-present, as he settled himself into the floor of the funny Werecat's cave. He had absolutely no intention of moving.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred gets hungry.

Arthur returned that morning more disappointed than ever. He'd had no luck transforming and he even saw a whole herd of Deer-Centaur. His body refused to cooperate in any way. Of course, there's no way he could make a kill in his weak, human form. Not unless he reduced himself to a gun-toting imbecile as all those moronic humans (whose likeness he was currently trapped in) did.

Just picturing his older brothers' reaction to his 'difficulty' was enough to make him want to dig himself a hole and never come out. He wanted nothing more than to sleep away the day and pretend it was all a dream.

However, when he entered the cave, the little Centaur calf jolted awake. Yes, he had fallen asleep, but it couldn't have been for long. His eyes were bloodshot to prove it. He hadn't slept more than a wink, and he'd tried his hardest to stay up the entire night guarding the little Bird. But he was still just a calf who was growing and needed large amounts of sleep. It was still, clearly, a valiant effort.

He felt his throat tighten but quickly dusted the emotions off himself as he approached the stupid calf.

"Hi," the calf murmured. "Did you have any luck transforming?"

"Does it  _look_ like I did? And why do you seem so eager for me to do so? The second I do, I'm eating you. You had your chance."

Matthew blinked his sore, dry eyes at him and yawned. His long ears flattening back. It was as if he knew too well that he was adorable. Well, too bad. Those little calf tricks wouldn't work on him.

"Until you do, I'm going to stay here, eh? I'm going to keep Alfred until I find a nice bird family to adopt him! Then I can go find my mommy."

"What if you never find this mythical nice Bird family though? What then?"

"Well, if that happens, obviously I'll take care of him. He needs me!" Matthew smiled, as he must have thought everything really was that simple.

"Are you sure you can really raise him? A  _Bird_? How are you going to teach him to fly? How are you going to deal with his migration instincts? What about getting food for him? You have  _no idea_ , do you?"

Matthew shuffled in his seat as he looked down. What he said next was just barely audible.

"I would do it for my brother."

Arthur had to turn away and retreat to the back of the cave before the calf could spot the little tear that escaped from his left eye. He wiped it away furiously, fending off flashbacks of his own childhood the whole time.

He stayed in the shadows of the cave for a long while, leaving Matthew alone with Alfred. Then, once he had composed himself, he approached the Centaur again.

"Since you're so adamant on staying, I have decided I may as well grant you permission."

Matthew's burning eyes brightened and he opened his mouth to thank him, but was cut off.

"Don't mistake me. I'm still going to eat you. I am simply going to let you stay until winter -when the hunting gets scarce.  _Then_  I'll eat you. Think of yourself as live-in dinner. Besides, the little one would only be a snack. If he's older, that means I can have a bigger meal. It's a simple investment strategy. You can stay and search for Birds who could adopt him until wintertime. Then time's up." Arthur smiled, happy with his plan, but he didn't expect Matthew to leap up and  _hug_  him.

"H-hey! You're not supposed to be happy about this! I'm still going to eatyou! Didn't you hear me?! This is  _not_  kindness!"

Yet Matthew just hugged tighter, loving the feeling of being able to hug someone. It reminded him of how much he loved hugging his mother.

Arthur eventually wrenched himself from the surprisingly strong grip of the calf and retreated to his corner in the dark. Only the light catching his green eyes revealed where he was.

Matthew picked up Alfred from where he sat him down. The Bird had been wailing and screeching, but stopped immediately when he was held in his older brother's arms again.

"You just want attention, don't you, eh?"

The baby just wiggled around and smiled innocently, keeping a firm grip on his brother this time.

"Don't worry!" He yawned once more before continuing. "I'll find someone to take care of you!"

When Matthew lay down, arms still protectively wrapping his Bird brother, he fell asleep almost instantly. Arthur could have sworn he heard the calf start snoring even before his head hit the ground. Then again, the lad was still a  _calf_. He needed sleep almost as much as the Bird did. Still, he couldn't help but smile at the scene as he curled up in the corner, falling asleep himself.

However, his sleep was not long prolonged as he felt a tug on his head. Arthur tried to ignore it, but the tug came once more and more roughly. He jolted to full consciousness to find himself looking at the Bird pulling on his blond locks of hair then trying to eat them. Arthur tossed his head to yank back his hair from the infant's grip then rolled over to attempt more sleep.

Alfred, it seemed, would have none of that. He just crawled around and started again in his attempts to rip Arthur's hair from his head.

"Stop it! I'll eat you right now!" he snapped, his green eyes trying their best to bore into the kid's soul, but the Bird's shield of innocence proved too strong.

Of course the little chick had no idea what he was saying. He was way too young to understand.

The baby just smiled and stuck his chubby hand in his mouth, drooling over it and gumming on it happily with his toothless jaws and kicking his feet idly. With his other hand, he reached over to grab more hair, but Arthur caught him. Alfred simply settled for holding Arthur's finger, his whole hand barely fitting over one digit.

A warmth zapped Arthur as he continued to watch the kid munch on his own hand before realizing the infant was probably pulling hair for a reason. Who knew how long that kid had been out of the nest before Matthew even found him? He probably hadn't eaten in a rather long while.

_Of_ course  _he's hungry_ , Arthur thought to himself, snapping out of his state and snatching his hand back.  _I'm surprised the little blighter hasn't screamed bloody murder about it already._

But, perhaps it could have been the trauma falling out of his nest, losing his parents, getting picked up by a stranger, being chased, and having to sleep in a cave that shoved the need to eat down on the priority list. Although, Arthur had no doubt that it wouldn't be very long before his empty stomach would catch up to him. What  _did_  the lad eat anyway?

Arthur sat up and looked down at the chick to analyze him. He picked up and turned him around so he could inspect his wings. That would be probably the only way of finding out what kind of Bird he was,  _if_  Arthur had ever seen his species before. He likely had, but he knew well enough to know that he hadn't seen them all.

Alfred was more than happy at being held. He looked around, observing what he could from his new height. Being high up was something that probably excited his Bird instincts.

Examining the build of the wings seemed to conclude that Alfred wasn't a flightless bird. He could have guessed that from the start, but he had met a few flightless in his lifetime.

The color of his plumage wouldn't exactly match the plumage of his parents' species until his adult feathers grew in so that wasn't going to work for identification. Although, he could just wait. Birds, like most other species, grew up quite quickly then sort of hung out in an awkward, juvenile limbo before finally maturing into adults. However, Birds were some of the speediest and practically zoomed through infancy.

He grabbed the end of one wing and pulled to stretch it out and see how the wing was shaped. This gave him the biggest clue as to what kind of Bird he was. From the shape and arrangement of feathers, he concluded the Bird was definitely a raptor of some sort. This kind of Bird ate meat.

He couldn't conclude much more than that, but he really didn't need to. This was just turning into a worse and worse idea. The poor calf may have had good intentions, but it just wasn't possible. If the Birds didn't even care for their own young that fell out of their nest, why would they _adopt_  one? Especially if it was of another species? It would be another mouth to feed and competition for the other chicks. Arthur was about ninety-nine percent sure that Matthew would never find him parents.

And, secondly, it just wasn't feasible for the calf to care for the chick. After all, Centaurs were herbivores and possessed no ability to catch and/or kill prey. Besides, the calf himself should still be with his mother for another good several months before he could be on his own. In all honesty, it would have just been easier if he left the Bird to the circle of life and stayed with his mother.

Arthur sighed, picking up the infant and walked over to the calf. After placing the child back with his "caretaker," he left the cave. Although it was almost afternoon and certainly not the normal time a Werecat would normally be found prowling in the open, he ventured out of the cave anyway -leaving the calf and the Bird chick alone- grateful it has stopped raining for once.

* * *

Matthew woke to the sound of something hard hitting the cave floor. He immediately reached for Alfred to find that he was not in his arms where he left him, but his panic was stilled when he found the kid snuggled up against his side, gripping his belly's slightly-shaggy fur.

Looking up, he saw that Arthur was actually in his cat form. He had a light yellow fur that matched his human form's blond hair and the same green eyes that just seemed feline regardless of what form he was in.

He found the source of the thump when he looked toward the Werecat's bloody paws to find a small rabbit carcass lying there.

Arthur gave a short glance to Matthew before licking his paws, happy that he was finally able to be in his more dangerous form. Alfred popped up upon Matthew shifting and saw the rabbit too. He immediately started chirping loudly and flapping his wings eagerly. He began to crawl over, but Matthew grabbed him back, not as trusting with the Werecat actually having claws now. But when he scooped the boy up, Alfred began struggling and screeching, thrashing about and crying. Matthew didn't know what to do. He just held the little guy out at arm's length and looked helplessly toward the Werecat.

Arthur rolled his deep shoulder blades and purred snidely.

"Still think you can take care of him, huh?"

Matthew's ears angled down as he began softly crying too, simply because he couldn't stand that his little brother was in pain and making such horrid, horrid noises.

"Well, as it turns out, your brother is a carnivore. A  _flesh-eater_." He relished the look of terror on the Centaur's face. "If you're going to take care of him, you're going to have to hunt other animals for him. You're going to have to _kill_ them for your precious little brother to rip to shreds -until he's old enough to do it himself." Matthew gulped and shrunk down. "Oh, don't be worried. It will be a couple years before he's big enough to hunt Centaur. Wouldn't that be interesting? Being eaten by your adopted, baby brother. Can you taste the irony?"

The Werecat licked the blood off his muzzle as Matthew turned pale. He sat the kid down then collapsed into a heap of sobs.

Arthur hadn't been expecting that reaction. He, honestly, didn't know what to expect. Okay. Maybe he went a little overboard, but it wasn't like he lied to the kid? He just wanted to tell him what to expect.

"H-hey. I'm not going to babysit that thing as it screams like a banshee while you go hunting today. So, how about he take some of my rabbit? I don't want to end up deaf."

Matthew sniffled and his mouth twitched. He couldn't decide if he should smile or not.

He brought Alfred to the kill and the baby's screams started to die down as he realized he was going to get fed. When he sat the kid down, Matthew looked toward Arthur expectantly.

"What? He's  _your_  problem.  _You_  have to feed him. I'll get you started."

With that he took his claws and ripped open the side of the rabbit, guts spewing out. Matthew jumped back but Alfred was practically vibrating with anticipation. He looked toward Matthew and Matthew looked toward him. No one made a move for it.

"Go on. Eat it." Matthew pushed the kid closer to the rabbit, but he didn't attempt to eat it.

"He doesn't have any teeth yet. You'll have to grind it up for him," Arthur said, offhandedly.

"H-how do I do that?"

The Werecat smirked. "Have you heard of regurgitation?"

Matthew snorted and shuffled farther backwards.

"I'm not eating  _meat_  and then _vomiting_  it back up for him!"

"Oh, you don't have to do all  _that_. You can just put it in your mouth and chew it up a little for him. That'll make it much easier for the little tyke."

"B-but…I can't! I don't eat  _meat_! It's just wrong! I mean,  _I'm_  meat! That would be sick!"

"I'm made of meat too, but I find meat quite delicious."

"I j-just.  _I can't_!"

"Then he'll starve."

Matthew looked absolutely heartbroken. He paced in a tight circle and pulled at his own honey-blond hair.

"Come now. You're going to have to do this for a good couple months before his teeth come in. Better get over the fear now."

He watched with great amusement as Matthew kept staring at the perfectly good meal like it came back to life and started talking to him.

When Alfred started to cry, letting out a shrill wail in protest to  _still_  not being fed, Matthew caved.

"Alright!  _Alright_!"

Before he could think on it, he dug his hand in the rabbit's gut, pulled out some muscle, and shoved it in his mouth. Arthur watched with genuine amazement and found himself picking his jaw up off the floor. He never thought he could get the calf to  _actually_  do it.

It seemed he chewed just once before he turned ghostly white and spat it out. He emptied the rest of his last meal on the floor too and even continued to dry heave after his stomach was empty. Putting his head in his hands, he cried.

"I just can't do it. I just  _can't_!"

Alfred's howling became intensified, as if sensing Matthew's heartbrokenness as well as his own hunger that _still_  hadn't been satisfied.

"Take it easy, lad. I was just trying to prove to you that it might just be best if you let me take Alfred out of his misery and let me eat hi-"

" _Don't you dare!_  I will not let him die!" Matthew's purple eyes pierced deep into Arthur as he suddenly became furious, scooping up Alfred roughly. "He's my brother!  _I will not let him die_! There must be some way!"

Arthur was taken aback. Suddenly, Matthew pointed at him.

" _You_  feed him."

It was not a suggestion. In any way.

Arthur was so shocked by the request and how menacing the tiny calf could get himself to look that he accidently reverted back into his Second form, knocking him back to square one with his pride. He cursed under his breath. He _just_  got back to his cat-form!

"Me? W-who do you think you're talking to?!" He put his hands on his hips and tried to maintain his air of superiority.

"This rabbit will look fine compared to what you'll look like after I'm finished with you if you don't save my brother's life."

Every word dripped with malice, and, truth be told, Arthur kept having flashbacks of his older brothers, which only made the Centaur seem more frightening. Even though this Centaur was just a kid, he could still crack his ribs with a well-placed kick if he wanted to.

Arthur growled but ripped off a piece of meat and stripped it along the fibers into tiny strings. Then he walked over to Matthew who cautiously set Alfred down. Arthur held the string of meat above the Bird's head to which the baby eagerly craned his neck and opened his mouth to receive. Slurping eagerly, he downed the piece in seconds then tilted his head back again for more. Arthur begrudgingly repeated this for several times until the chick was satisfied.

"Why didn't you just suggest I do that from the start?" Matthew was slowly calming back down, exhausting himself with a stressful day of erratic emotion.

Arthur snorted, getting up to go to his dark corner.

"No need to _thank_  me or anything."

Matthew averted his gaze to the ground still thinking sour thoughts.

"Thank you,  _Dad_ ," he spat sarcastically, but remembered he desperately needed to stay on this Werecat's good side. He quickly tried to recover. "I-I mean… sir."

Arthur stopped in his tracks horrified, amused, and, somehow, pleased all at once with the calf's name-calling.

"Goodnight." The calf quickly gathered up Alfred and brought him over to their self-designated side of the cave. He quickly wiped off Alfred's messy face and sat him down to rest.

Arthur slowly walked to his corner and curled up, wishing he could somehow get back to his First form. It was much more comfortable to sleep in. Still, he couldn't get what the calf said out of his mind. It was messing with his psyche a bit too much to be called "Dad" even if it was sarcastically.

He shuffled around in the corner, unable to get comfortable in any position. He blamed his inability to take a nap on the fact he had no proper bed. He would only need one if he succumbed to the fact he was, in fact, in his weaker and more pathetic form most of the time and it would be practical to do so. However, he was rather stubborn. It would take much more than back pain to break his resolve. He decided to just get an early start on his nightly hunt.

He upped and left the cave again even though he just got back, not bothering to alert the headstrong calf. If he could take care of a chick, the he,  _obviously_ , could take care of himself. Still, he caught himself thinking of Matthew's words or the chick during his hunt. But, no, he wasn't worried for them. Not at all. What did he care if anything happened to them? All he would lose is someone to laugh at and a good future meal. It's not like he couldn't find food anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Species Bios:
> 
> -Centaur: Have everything from the torso up of a human and then, instead of human legs, the midsection and legs of a hooved quadruped such as a horse, moose, zebra, deer, cow, camel, giraffe, etc. Centaurs are generally herbivores and travel in herds but their traits and instincts are characteristic to their individual species.
> 
> -Birds: Birds have the body of a human (with some differences that include but are not limited to lung capacity and bone weight) and the wings of a bird. They, like Centaurs, will act in accordance to what their own species entails they would act (whether they migrate, stay in flocks, or eat meat).
> 
> -Werecat: One of the shapeshifting races. They have the body of a big cat such as a tiger, mountain lion, jaguar, lion, leopard, etc., and they are then capable of shifting their entire form into that of a human. They are not stronger than a normal human in their human form, but they don't use that form to hunt. They use it to ambush. They are carnivores but, like everything else, act in accordance to their species such as whether they travel in packs or how they hunt.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Matthew start the search for Alfred's parents and meet Natalya.

Arthur returned a little early. He'd had no luck turning  _again_  so why exhaust himself? His human feet were still sore but not as sore when compared to the last time he'd been unable to turn for an extended period of time. He was probably building up  _callouses_! He could spit in disgust of himself.

He wasn't  _supposed_ to live in this form. His human form was for camouflage and ambushing. Humans as a species were capable of being dangerous in their own right but what made their guise good for Werecat use was the unpredictability of their natures -some humans were hunters while others wouldn't hurt a fly. And their big, round faces looked just so innocent. This made most species hesitate around one long enough for a Werecat to get in close enough for a kill. However, hunting in that fashion only worked if phase two, the actual killing the deceived prey with the claws and jaws of their First forms, went according to plan. He was pretty sure he wasn't defective as a Werecat, but he was sure he should have grown out of this annoying phase by now.

Arthur cringed as he walked through the forest. Every time Arthur stepped on even the smallest pebble, pain would lance up his leg from his stupid, pink, flabby foot with all its stupid, little toes and send him hopping around like an idiot until the throbbing subsided. It was far past humiliating. He was  _supposed_  to be a powerful Mountain Lion that had a jaw that could crush, paws that had padding so he wouldn't get sore at all, and fur that wouldn't fall apart unlike the rags he wore to warm his human body. This was just pathetic.

He muttered angrily to himself as he continued to hobble back toward his den when he heard the low moaning of a Centaur calf. If he was in his Mountain Lion form, he would be able to pinpoint exactly how far the Calf was away from him and in what direction. But, really, he didn't have to guess. After all, no  _other_  Calf would be stupid enough to get separated from its mother.

He heard the Calf sound it again. It was low and grief-stricken. Some spark of sorrow, a different kind of aching than what his feet were experiencing, flickered in Arthur's heart as he remembered making a similar sound, inaudible but still the same, when he was a young Cub longing for his own mother.

For the first time in Arthur's life, the distress call of a young Centaur wasn't making him hungry like it would have only a few days earlier. If he had heard it back then, he would have become very excited. Calves by themselves would be perfect kills and probably last him a good couple days by that amount of meat alone. However, now, he felt something odd about it, something that caused a hibernating part of his heart to startle. The deceivingly innocent and simple collection of sound waves dug into his skull how he tried ignoring it.

He finally entered the cave and looked toward the Calf who was quickly rubbing the moisture off his face, sniffling and looking away quickly.

"Are you okay?" Arthur didn't know how he intended to sound when he said that, but it ended up being probably the most soft-spoken thing he'd even said to the kid.

"I'm fine."

Arthur walked over slowly, formulating his words with extreme care.

"I'm not so sure you are."

He saw, as he got closer, that the Bird had been crying too. Probably because he knew Matthew was crying. The Calf pulled Alfred to himself and hugged him like a human would their baby doll. He just needed something to hug.

Arthur decided to jump right to the chase.

"I heard you calling for your mother."  
Matthew looked down with guilt.

"You shouldn't do that. Any predator in the area could have heard it too."

The Calf didn't say anything but rocked Alfred in his arms as Arthur leaned against the cave wall, trying to give him space.

Arthur continued, "You're a Moose-Centaur, aren't you?"

Matthew nodded, still not looking Arthur in the eyes.

"You shouldn't be on your own until you have a set of antlers. You explained why you had Alfred, but you didn't explain why you were not with your mother when I …found you."

The Calf sniffled.

"I was in the woods when I found Alfred. When I got back to the meadow the herd was grazing in, they were gone."

"They left you?"

"Well, it was my fault. I stayed too long away from them. The Bull Moose probably ordered them to leave, and no one can disobey the Bull Moose. I'm sure my mom didn't want to leave me. I just…but I'm fine on my own, eh? Just until I find Alfred parents. I would have had to leave the Herd eventually anyway so why should it matter if I have a little practice? I mean, Alfred needs me to find him parents, and I…j-just…I don't n-need…."

Then he broke into sobs, his shoulders trembled as he wept violently. His crying verged on a panic attack as it got more intense. Alfred began screeching; fearful of Matthew's sudden burst of emotion he didn't understand and because he seemed to have already attached himself to the boy. It was like he thought Matthew genuinely _was_  his actual brother and hatch mate. So, if his brother was crying, it was only logical that whatever it was would make him sad too.

Arthur didn't know what to do. He  _couldn't_  have known what to do. Werecats, well,  _his_  species, were generally solitary unless they had a mate. The only time he was with another creature that he wasn't trying to eat was when he was battling other Werecats over territory disputes or meeting with his own family members (although he avoided them like the plague). Werecats weren't exactly known for their comforting nature.

Still, he couldn't let the kid do this to himself. So he slowly approached him and tried to recall what his mother would say when he a Cub and he was upset.

"H-hey. Calm down, lad. You're going to make yourself sick, you are."

Then a thought struck him.

"When was the last time you've eaten? You haven't since you've been here, have you?"

The Centaur, with his purple eyes blurred and wet, shook his head.

"You need to eat. No wonder you're so miserable! Come on. Off you pop. Go find some grass or something. I'll even go with you if that will make you feel better."

The Calf looked at him and nodded slowly, trying his best to compose himself. He stood on shaky legs but forced himself to move. Arthur followed. He knew that the child still did need his mother, but the kid needed to eat more immediately. Still, he had to wonder why the Herd would leave one of their young behind.

Centaurs were very protective of their young with the bond of mother to child being what held the Herd together. They wouldn't just  _move on_  without a Calf. There was only one conceivable reason that the Herd would abandon a Calf: if they were being attacked and pursued by a predator. Only in the panic and chaos of a life and death struggle would the Herd ever leave one of its own. That's how a predator, such as himself, would go about getting a Centaur for dinner. You have to pick off one of the ones that fell behind. There was no way even a whole pack of predators would be able to take on a Centaur Herd. Separating one off from the group was the only way to catch one.

If this was the case for Matthew, he would most likely be mourned then forgotten. After all, he would be assumed eaten. They wouldn't look for someone who they thought was dead. Poor little lad.

He followed the Calf around and watched as he picked off leaves and shrubs to munch on, even struggling to strip some bark off of the trees with one hand as the other was used to hold the Bird. It was sad to think that both of these children were, essentially, orphans.

They got back to the cave with no complications. There, Matthew ate his fill, which drastically improved his mood.

"Why are you doing this for us?"

Arthur was caught off-guard, trying to take a nap.

"What do you mean?" He yawned into his arm.

"I mean, why are you helping us? You're going to eat us so why are you helping us get food?'

Arthur rolled over so he faced away from the Calf.

"Because if you die of starvation before winter, there goes my preserved meal. That wouldn't be smart."

"…No. It wouldn't, would it?"

The Calf yawned too, which Alfred mimicked, curling up to his "big brother" with a quite content smile.

Arthur sat against the cave wall, deep within his own thoughts. This was a bad idea. Here he was trying to convince Matthew that he couldn't possibly care for a younger animal while turning around and saying that  _he_  could keep the Calf and Bird alive until winter. Sure he had the ability to hunt and the knowledge to know what a Centaur and Bird needed to survive, but he couldn't  _care_  for them. Besides, the little Calf was just too innocent, too  _nice_. Matthew needed to be back with his mother.

Tracking the Herd would be simple enough in concept. If he could just shift into his Mountain Lion form, he could easily track them. He couldn't imagine multiple moose-Centaur Herds would be in the area. However, he knew Matthew still wanted to find Alfred parents. He could just…lie, couldn't he? If he got the Calf back to his mother, there's no way the mother would let Matthew run off again. Then Matthew's mother could convince her child what to do about Alfred. They weren't his problem after that. Happy ending for everyone.

_Or, well,_  his thoughts staggered as his gaze fell to the tiny Bird,  _most of them_.

Still, that plan seemed good enough. Pleased with himself, he tiptoed out of the cave. If he could just hunt a little something for Alfred before they headed off, they should be able to head off without a hitch.

* * *

"This is where you found me?"

"Yes," Arthur said, as he swiveled his blond head around on his shoulders. "It looks right. This is where I was hunting the day I found you."

"Okay. Then where I found Alfred should be in the forest…over there!"

Matthew trotted confidently while Arthur had to jog to keep up. He followed the excited Calf until Matthew finally stopped. The boy's gaze was distracted from the forest and turned to the field adjacent, his ears flopped down by his neck.

"Matthew, was that where you last saw your Herd?"

"Yeah…. So that means I found Alfred right over here!"

His emotions flip-flopped as he headed into the foliage of the forest. Arthur took a mental note of where Matthew was looking in the field then followed him in. Matthew was standing not more than thirty feet in the forest, staring down at the ground.

"Here! This has to be where I found him! Do you think you can pick up his flock's scent?"

"I'm not sure, Matthew. Some Birds don't flock. Raptors in particular."

But he saw the poor lad's part sad, part determined face and stopped his defeatist tone.

"But I'll see what I can pick up."

He crouched down and tried to shift and was met with the same frustrating result he'd met for the past couple days. He tried and tried, but nothing would happen. Maybe it was like his body knew subconsciously that he wasn't really interested in finding the scent of the Birds but rather Matthew's Herd. He clenched his fists and was about to blubber out some sort of plan B when they heard a branch snap above them.

Matthew's ears went vertical as Arthur's head jerked up as well.

"Hello?"

"Shh!" Arthur hushed him, jumping up to put a quick hand over the boy's mouth.

His green eyes raked the branches above him for any signs of movement. He could see nothing. However, he wasn't going to blame the wind just yet.

"Show yourself!"

A moment more of silence lapsed before a figure landed on a branch above them.

"Well, look at this. A little, baby Centaur and a human? This is certainly a strange sight, indeed."

Above them was a Bird –obviously female. She was slightly smaller than an adult so she must have been a juvenile: big enough to hunt for herself, but not mature enough to breed. Her hair was long and almost silver, done up with an enormous bow. Her dress was a bit torn, but Arthur couldn't imagine that fashion was of much concern for a Bird –especially from the stray drops of blood that stained it.

"Hello! My name is Matthew. What's yours?"

"Matthew, stop talking," Arthur hissed, but the danger of the situation was lost on the poor Calf.

The Bird jumped off the branch, letting dark brown feathers guide her safely like a parachute. She landed perfectly balanced atop Matthew's back.

"H-hey!" The Calf squeaked, as he struggled to support the weight.

"Get away from him, Bird!" Arthur demanded.

"My name is Natalya."

She kicked Arthur back when he tried to approach and then turned to tugging on Matthew's ears roughly, eliciting a few cries of pain from the boy. He rapidly started to wobble and fell to the ground roughly, unable to catch himself with Alfred still in his arms.

Natalya now sat on Matthew, pinning him to the ground and smashing his face into the ground as she leaned toward his neck –surprisingly strong.

"Shh. Calm down now. If you don't struggle, it will be over faster."

Matthew could see Natalya's sharp teeth. The Bird's teeth looked exactly like Matthew's in terms of space they took up in the mouth with one row on top and one row on the bottom, but was different in the fact that each row was made up of one solid tooth instead of many teeth –a wall of glinting bone- and sharped to a point where they would meet if she smiled. It was like she had two meat cleavers in her mouth. And she was going to rip him apart with them.

"A-arthur!"

Suddenly, Natalya was knocked into a tree behind them, her head snapping back roughly. The Bird's vision cleared only for her to see that she had been pinned by a large, clawed paw. Above her she saw a set of fangs that sent terror up her spine.

"You're not a human!"

"Thank you for stating the obvious, dear. Now you are going to answer my questions or so help me I will slash so many holes in you the scavengers won't even know what you are when they find you!"

She gulped and nodded. Birds weren't regularly listed on the Werecat menu, but the only reason being that Birds could fly while Werecats could not. On the ground, Birds were just another prey item. Natalya was scared.

"A three days ago there was a moose-Centaur Herd grazing in that field nearby. Where did they go?"

"I don't know!"

"Think harder!" Arthur growled, pushing his paws harder against her throat. "They must have left suddenly, in a great hurry. It was right before the last rainstorm."

"I-I don't know. Hunting hasn't been good around here lately. I was scavenging farther north-east. Picking up the remains of Werewolf kills. T-then the Wolves left for the town that morning like they always do t-to go grovel at the feet of their humans and-."

"Shut up. I know all about the town. I need to know-"

"Arthur? Shouldn't you be asking her about the Birds that nested here?"

"No idea," Natalya answered quickly. "Please don't eat me! Please!"

Arthur glared at the whimpering Bird. He and Matthew would need to be on their way and he wasn't going to kill her if he wasn't going to stay and eat her. He wasn't a fan of wasting food. He snorted and released her.

She sank down and gasped for air. After recovering, she straightened herself and smoothed out her dress as if to try to regain some of her dignity and began to slowly walk away without event thanking them.

"Come, Matthew. We're going to see if-"

" _NO!_ "

Arthur spun around to see that Natalya had flown up and landed on a branch. She dangled Alfred by his foot fifteen feet above them.

"Stop!" Matthew screamed. "You're hurting him! Give him back to me! Please!"

The Calf was just short of hysterics. Arthur even felt his heart clench roughly as he saw Alfred. The poor Hatchling was squawking and screeching, wriggling with all his might to be upright again.

"Strange little Eaglet you have here."

"Leave him alone! Put him down right now!"

"Put him down? I don't think you want me to do that, hon."

Natalya smirked as she began to swing the baby Bird by the foot that she held him. Matthew was tantalized. He was shaking with the fear he felt for Alfred and the fury of not being able to do anything about it.

"Did papa Eagle and momma Eagle ever come back for him?" she teased.

"I found him!" Matthew yelled. "We're taking him back to his parents!"

Natalya stopped swinging the kid and furrowed her eyebrows for a moment.

"You're doing  _what?_  You know that they'd probably eat him. Just like that werecat is probably going to eat you."

"No, he's not! He promised! And if I can't find Alfred's mommy and daddy, then I'll take care of him! He doesn't deserve to be alone! Not when I can do something about it!"

Natalya paused for a moment as an emotion flashed in her dark, dark blue eyes. She the slowly righted the child and held him properly. The Eaglet was still panicked and grasped tightly to the collar of her dress –his tears darkening the area by her shoulder.

Suddenly, the little Bird had a sense of déjà vu. He knew this place –this place by the shoulder where he could look behind and see feathery wings. The person holding him didn't smell quite right nor sound right but he was in the trees where he could see the ground down below. This was a place he had been many times before. This was a safe place. He liked this place. His heart began to calm as he remembered how secure this position felt to him (even though there were a few details missing). That's when he felt something brush against the top of his head. He looked up and became fascinated by something new he'd never seen from up here before -the older Bird's shimmering bow. It looked pretty! He had to see it! He reached up and pulled on the end, smiling as the whole thing became unraveled. Quickly his terror he felt just moments before was forgotten.

"Peeyah!" He exclaimed as he held up the ribbon triumphantly, then shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

Natalya smiled.

She looked down to the two down below as if she suddenly remembered that they were still there. Then she jumped into the air and flew out of the forest and above the meadow.

Matthew shrieked and raced out after her. Arthur wasn't far behind. They watched the two Birds in the sky as she soared above them into the distance.  
"No! No! No!  _No!_ " Matthew's little heart just couldn't take it anymore and he sank to the ground in bitter tears. "P-please bring my brother b-back…."

Arthur had a feeling that there was nothing he could do to comfort the Calf so he kept his eyes trained on Natalya and Alfred. Suddenly, the two circled back.

For some reason, Natalya returned. She landed a good thirty feet away from Matthew and Arthur and deposited Alfred safely and gently on the ground before taking off again by herself.

Matthew hadn't noticed any of this during his weeping spell, his head buried so deep into his hands as if to hide there from everything the cruel world had done to him so Arthur took it upon himself. He charged after Alfred and curled around him protectively, looking for any scratches or bruises. However, he was interrupted by Matthew crying out as he was knocked to the ground by Natalya again.

"Matthew!" he shouted, but the werecat was unable to get his paws to respond just as quickly as his mouth.

Arthur was torn in half. He could feel his heart being ripped apart fiber by fiber. He would lose one –Alfred or Matthew- and he physically couldn't choose between them without self-destruction. It was a terrifying realization in more ways than one.

Arthur watched as Natalya grabbed either side of the Calf's head and turned it toward her own. She owned his complete attention.

"Listen carefully. I couldn't see any Centaur Herds from up there. I would suggest going to the town and asking the Werewolves. They would be more familiar with the hunting in the north. They might know where the Herd has gone."

"You're helping-?"

"Shh! You take care of that Eaglet, you understand? Whatever you do,  _do not_  give him back to his parents or to any Birds for that matter! You take care of him because you already love him more than his real parents ever did. I guarantee that. Everyone deserves to have a big brother like you."

With that, she released the Calf and jetted off into the sky without a glance back. She disappeared above the forest leaving an exhausted Centaur Calf, a confused Werecat, and an oblivious Bird Eaglet.

Relief washed over Arthur like a warm wave only for him to realize that the wave was physical and he was returning back into his Second form against his will - _again_. Still, he didn't have any time to feel frustrated at himself. He picked up Alfred and rushed to Matthew.

"Are you alright?"

Arthur became aware of Alfred reaching out for Matthew so he reluctantly relinquished the charge to the Calf. Matthew scooped him up with greed and smooshed Alfred to himself in a huge hug.

"I'm fine now," Matthew said with tangible fulfillment.

"Peeyah!" Alfred chirped, while holding Natalya's bow out to Matthew. It dripped with the little tyke's saliva, but Matthew nodded reluctantly and accepted it anyway.

"Uh?" Matthew held out the slobbery bow and Arthur told him to just put it in his pocket for now.

"Come on. I want to see if I can get us a place to stay in town before nightfall."

"We're going to see W-werewolves?"

"It's our best and only lead. Come on, lad. Town is just a few hours away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in case it was a little confusin':
> 
> -Matthew's plan: Find nice Bird family to adopt Alfred then find Mom.  
> -Arthur's plan: Find Matthew's mom and return him to her with Alfred (instead of giving Alfred to a family of Birds).  
> Arthur hasn't told Matthew of his plan yet knowing that Matthew would object, but Arthur believes that his plan is better for the both him and Alfred considering that living with Matthew is probably the best outcome for Alfred considering the circumstances.
> 
> So we finally meet a (sort of) grown-up Bird and get to see a little bit into what Alfred's brethren act like. The Birds don't have beaks but they have two, solid masses of sharp bone in their mouths that do the same job. Basically, picture if your teeth didn't have spaces in between them. (Not the open space, like, where your tongue sits, but the space from individual tooth to the tooth directly left and right of it.) Then you'd have two rows of tooth -essentially what the Birds have. This allows them to grab on to have kind of a best of both worlds between human teeth and a beak.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way to Town, Arthur meets and old friend.

It was frustrating to Arthur that they had to leave the field after that fiasco with Natalya. After all, that was probably the only place where he could find the scent of Matthew's Herd, but, for some reason, his body still held a grudge against himself –holding him prisoner in the shackles of his First form. Although, even if he could turn, the scent was probably gone –washed away with the rain that fell the day the Herd left. Chances of finding the other Moose-Centaur were getting slimmer and slimmer as time eroded their leads and Arthur still couldn't transform. Things just weren't going their way.

Well, maybe that wasn't  _entirely_  true. He found his gaze drifting toward Matthew who was safe and sound as they walked. He was currently double checking and triple checking Alfred for any possible wounds Natalya could have left on the little Eaglet while the infant himself basked in the attention.

The Calf held the baby Bird with a care and an importance that was never given to Arthur by his own brothers when he was a Cub. He didn't think it was possible for older siblings to  _actually_  love younger siblings.

"So Alfred is an Eeg…Ehgh…?" Matthew asked, snapping Arthur from his thoughts.

"Eaglet."

"Yeah! An Eaglet." Matthew rolled his tongue around the new word, satisfied with his correct pronunciation this time, before continuing. "Do you have any friends that are Eagles? Maybe they would know his parents and if his mommy and daddy want him back?"

"Matthew, I  _eat_  Birds. As I demonstrated today, I had to threaten one with her own demise before she would give me the answers I needed. Can't say that any conversation I've ever had with any other Birds went any better."

"But what if one wanted to be your friend?"

"Matthew," Arthur sighed and massaged one of the temples on his head. "I already told you that I'm not going to eat Alfred. You don't have to worry-"

"But what if it's a different Bird and that Bird just wants to be your friend too? You wouldn't eat them, would you?"

"Matthew, what is the point-"

" _Would you?!_ "

The Centaur's eyes sparkled with fear. Arthur was dumbstruck. The answer was obvious to the Werecat: Eat the Bird because eating meant surviving. But he could tell this would go somewhere ugly if he didn't say something to appease the Calf. They still had a long trek ahead of them and a fight along the way was not going to make passing the time any easier. He gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes before finally replying.

"Fine! If I meet a Bird who's stupid enough to try to be my friend, I promise won't eat it! Okay? Are you satisfied?"

Matthew looked at him with suspicion, eyeing him up and down. After scanning for a moment, he said, "Okay…."

As their trip continued, Arthur began to envy Matthew's hooves. His own floppy feet were beginning to get sore, but he really hated to slow down. He was out of his own territory, and the only place he felt comfortable stopping was their destination. He guessed he should have been grateful that Matthew was a Centaur. In reality, the Calf probably didn't even notice that they had been walking the distance they had. Centaur were made to be on their hooves and were easily accustomed to marching large distances with the Herds on a daily basis. Arthur, however, was not as acclimated.

He bit his lip almost to the point of bleeding as he stepped on yet another rock and concluded that he absolutely had to sit down if only for a moment. He knew they were close to the town, but he just had to take a break.

"Let's stop for a moment, lad," the Werecat said as he slowly sat on the ground, groaning with what would have been old age in his joints if not for the fact that he wasn't, well,  _old_  yet –just cranky and unfit.

The weight off his feet was blessed and the red souls of his feet pulsed violently -enflamed and shredding.

"Hey, Arthur! Look! I can get Alfred to hum whatever I hum!" The young voice sang with complete obliviousness to the other's pain.

"I know. I've been hearing you two for the past ten minutes."

Matthew still felt he needed to prove it and brought Alfred to him. Satisfied that Arthur was watching instead of tending to his toes, Matthew hummed a basic three-note melody. Sure enough, Alfred hummed it back in decently-accurate pitch.

"See?" The young Calf beamed.

"Yes, Matthew. I said I believed you."

"Why is he copying me anyway?"

"He's a Bird," Arthur said, trying not to let the implied  _"Duh!"_  leak into his tone. "Birds are typically quite musical. I suppose that might manifest early on in the form of humming. And he's also a baby. Babies learn through mimicry."

"Really?" His face brightened as he turned to the Eaglet once again. "Alfred, can you say, " _Matthew_?""

"He's too young to start talking yet, but good try."

"Aw," the Calf deflated.

Angling his dejected gaze toward toward the setting sun, he squinted through the trees which cast lengthened shadows and began to get a little nervous. Why did the comforting ball of light have to disappear every night? He saw no reason why night should exist at all.

"H-how close are we to shelter?"

"We're close. About an hour or so."

"But it'll be night by then! Momma says there are scary creatures that can get you at night if you aren't in the Herd."

"Matthew,  _I'm_  one of the scary creatures," Arthur said as he continued to massage his poor, pathetic feet. "In my mountain lion form, I probably have bigger claws than anything else roaming around. They won't mess with us."

"But what if you…you know. Can't change," Matthew mumbled behind Alfred, as if by saying it softer somehow made it less insulting.

"My scent is still the scent of a Werecat. All the predators that hunt at night rely on smell primarily. They will leave us alone."

Arthur hoped that was true. In truth he was more worried about Matthew's scent. He wasn't completely sure if just because nocturnal hunters smelled both Werecat and Centaur that the latter's scent would be too much of a temptation to pass up. Especially if they were scavengers. If that was the case, then they might be _attracted_  to it -thinking they could get part of a free meal. Still, he was banking that they would reach the town before that even became a concern. Speaking of which….

"Alright, let's get back to it. The town isn't far at all."

He cringed as he placed weight back onto his tortured appendages, but the trio trudged on. As they walked, the sun fell almost aggressively. Sooner than they both expected. As if to taunt them, darkness had settled over them.

"A-arthur? Arthur! Where are you! ARTH-mmph!"

Arthur had slapped a hand over the hysterical Calf's mouth quickly before he alerted every waking thing in the area to their presence.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"I-I thought I heard something."

"What did you hear?"

"I don't know. It sounded like leaves crunching and something moving around and it sounded like it was getting closer and-"

"Calm down. It was probably a mouse or something."

"But what if it  _wasn't_!"

"We're really close to the town. The chances of a large creature coming to eat you  _this_ close to human and Werewolf territory is very unlikely. Let's just keep walking."

Matthew nodded nervously and continued walking after the Werecat. Alfred in his arms didn't seem to like moving around at night either. He kept twisting restlessly and even chirping uncomfortably at his guardian on occasion. A large twig snapped somewhere in the distance and Matthew jumped, dancing a little on his hooves before practically knocking Arthur over.

"Matthew! Get a hold of yourself!" Arthur whispered harshly.

"I'm sorry. I just…can I hold your hand?"

" _What_?"

"Can I hold your hand as we walk? That might make me feel better. To know where you are just in case something bad happens and so you don't leave me by accident."

"You're fine. You don't need to-"

Something else made a noise somewhere, probably the Calf himself stepping on a rock, and Matthew grabbed Arthur's hand and whimpered. Arthur muttered to himself. Fine. Whatever. They were close to town anyway. So the Werecat allowed the Centaur to hold his hand.

If he had been in a better mood (which would have been something monumental in of itself), he might have caught the comedy of the situation. Matthew was so much bigger than he in his human form. Sure Matthew was about a foot or so shorter than him, but he was all around larger considering he had a whopping moose torso, yet the Calf was trying to hide behind pale, scrawny him for comfort.

Arthur sighed as they continued navigating the darkness ahead of them, or, as well as the two could manage. Centaur were certainly not nocturnal and neither were humans. If he was in his Mountain Lion form, this would be a different story. He would be able to see so much better in the dark and he would be able to tell Matthew with certainty that whatever he was hearing was just his imagination. And there would be none of this ridiculous hand-holding going on either. However, that wasn't happening so he just focused on the mission ahead.

It wasn't until ten minutes later (and Matthew jumping at nothing fourteen more times) that Arthur stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?"

"Shh," Arthur snapped as he strained his pathetic human ears for all they were worth.

He could have sworn that he heard something. He paused for another few moments before deciding to continue. That's when something leapt out of the bushes nearby.

"Graoww!"

"Aaaaah!" Matthew screamed before abandoning Arthur's arm and speeding off in the direction they came.

"Matthew! Wait!" Arthur called but the Centaur was too panicked to listen and disappeared.

The Werecat grumbled something mean about how that was why his species would always fall for the same hunting style for years upon years before he spun on his heels, extremely irritated, to confront the creature that startled Matthew in the first place.

It was actually two somethings and two little somethings at that. Arthur put his hands on his hips and glared down at the two Werewolf Pups who were in "attack" position, but lacked any semblance of "mighty hunter" in their faces. They looked kinda startled too by Matthew's screaming and confused by Arthur's presence.

"What are you two kids doing here? You shouldn't be out this late. Go back home to your mother. Go on!"

"VE! Please don't hurt me! I am just a little kid! I didn't mean it! We're sorry!"

As Arthur observed the blubbering children, he hoped that they wouldn't notice the difference between his scent and a human's scent. If they thought Arthur was someone from the town, they wouldn't dare attack him. And it looked like the plan was working.

That is, until a much bigger something stalked through the bushes, out of sight until now. Arthur might have been able to trick a couple of little Werewolf Pups, but there was no way he'd be able to trick an adult.

"I'm sorry, Señor Werecat. These two are still new to hunting. You understand, sí?"

Thankfully, it seemed that this Werewolf didn't feel like picking a fight with a Werecat invading the territory. It was probably thanks to the fact he was in his human form. Being in his human form, as well as being the physically weaker form and less of a practical threat, was seen as a sort of submissive gesture. Especially with Pups around, he was for once glad that he was in his human form.

The Werewolf sat next to the Pups who still inched behind the bigger adult to hide from Arthur's condescending gaze. There was something familiar about the newcomer that Arthur just couldn't put his finger on, but he didn't have time to inquire of it.

"Yes, well, now I have to go find-"

"Oh, yes. I only heard the scream, but I hope that your child did not run far."

"Um, he's not exactly my child," the Werecat explained slowly.

"Oh, well neither are these two. They are my apprentices, Feliciano and Lovino, who are somewhere behind me if they would be so polite as to introduce themselves."

"I don't want to meet him!" The tiny voice was muffled from behind the elder's back but intended to be venomous. "He's a jerk! He yelled at us! …And his eyebrows look like they could swallow someone!"

"Lovino, don't make me count to three! Uno…dos…."

Cautiously, two little fluffballs emerged from behind the adult Werewolf's back.

"Hi," said the one with green eyes and little enthusiasm.

The second apprentice was sitting obediently and his tail was wagging with enthusiasm.

"Ve! Hello! I'm Feliciano! I like to paint and get into people's personal space! At least that's what my friend Ludwig says. He also said that-"

"Muy bien, Feli. I suppose I should introduce myself as well. I am-"

"Antonio!" Arthur exclaimed, his green eyes wide with the sudden recognition.

The Werewolf was stunned. "Yes, but how did you know that?"

"It took me a moment, but I finally remembered! We've met before. When we were young. I'm Arthur! I came to town with my family because my mother-"

"Oh, yes!" the Wolf brightened with familiarity as well. "Arthur! Mi amigo! I knew I recognized your scent! It is so happy to see you again! How time flies!"

"So, wait. Does this mean that you are...?"

"Alpha? Yes, I am! Well, I will be until one of these two are big enough to take my place."

Antonio nuzzled the nearest one, green-eyed Lovino, who squirmed away from the affection.

"I don't want your job. It's stupid. Like your face."

"Oh, Lovi. Your grandfather would have been proud for you to become Alpha!" he said with exasperation that only came with having the same argument multiple times.

"Actually he would probably roll over in his grave. He wanted Feli to be Alpha. I just have to tag along because no one else can handle me."

"Don't say those things! Your grandfather loved you very much!"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"Anyway," Arthur butted in. "I'm sorry, but I need to find my…Matthew."

"Yes! I know that you could probably track him yourself, but may I make a small request that my apprentices do that? It will be part of their training exercises! Then, after we find him, you can stay with us in the town! We can catch up on the years that have passed!"

"I would be most grateful for that. I am in your debt. Thank you."

Arthur couldn't believe he snuck out of having to make up a reason as to why he would be unable to track Matthew down himself. On top of that, they found a place to stay in town! Things were starting to look up!

"Come now, boys! You need to track this child down. He should smell like Mr. Arthur."

"Actually," Arthur coughed into his sleeve. "He's, um, a…uh, Centaur."

"¿Qué?" The elder Werewolf cocked his head to the side with curiosity.

"I'll explain later. It's a really long story."

"O-okay. Well, I guess the lesson just became a little more… practical is all. Niños, you are tracking a Centaur. Go find him!"

"Ve~! Okie dokie!" cheered Feliciano, who immediately started sniffing the ground with his black nose.

Lovino was a little more stubborn about it, but, eventually, he started helping too.

"This way!" Feliciano announced proudly, trotting off in a particular direction.

"No, no! It's this way, moron!"

"Actually, Feli is headed in the right direction. Try again, mi tomate."

Antonio's words were encouraging and delicate, but Lovino could not have cared less, stomping after his sibling.

"Don't call me your tomato. It's stupid. Like you."

Antonio didn't seem phased by the insult but followed behind his two apprentices diligently, guiding Arthur back to his lost Centaur.

"He's close. Boys, stop. Arthur, why don't you try to coax him out?"

Arthur stepped forward, cursing his human eyes for not seeing better in darkness.

"Matthew, where are you? You can stop hiding now. Everything's fine. These Werewolves are my friends. They won't hurt you."

"S-so you  _d-do_  have friends?"

Arthur headed toward the small, frail voice and found Matthew hiding behind a tree, shaking like he was one of its leaves. He looked terrible.

"Come on, lad. Get up. I'll introduce you. They're going to bring us to the town and let us stay with them. We couldn't possibly be any safer."

The trembling Calf slowly stood and clopped over, keeping Arthur between himself and the Werewolves. It was kind of mind blowing for him to think that the presence of Werewolves equaled  _less_ danger. Still, he fought his instincts down as he would have followed Arthur into the jaws of a dragon at this point –he wasn't going to leave his side for a second in this scary darkness.

"Matthew, this is Antonio, the Alpha of the town. And these are his apprentices, Feliciano and Lovino."

"H-hello." It was barely more than a whisper, but it was still there. He didn't know what an "Alpha" was, but he was figured it must have meant something important, something demanding of respect.

"Everyone, this is Matthew, and the little Bird is Alfred, his…uh, little brother."

"Hi or whatever," moaned the grumpy Pup.

"Ve, Hello~!" said his cheerful companion with wide, happy eyes.

Antonio was obviously confused, but covered it with a cheery tone as he said, "I am pleased to meet the both of you, niños."

As the Wolves finished their introduction, the elder corralled the two Pups back toward the way they came, leading the group back closer to home. Arthur and Matthew followed.

"I am becoming more interested in this "long story" of yours by the minute, my friend," Antonio said, as they walked, "but we should wait until the little ones are in bed. Lovino is getting cranky."

"I am not!"

"That would be wise," said Arthur, casting a glance to the Centaur and Bird beside him, "I have a feeling Matthew and Alfred are also tired. They've had a long day."

"Well, don't worry, amigo. The town is just a few minutes away. Soon you'll be able to relax and be treated to true hospitality!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Species Bio:
> 
> Werewolves: Werewolves, like Werecats and other Were-species, are a shape-shifting race. However, unlike Werecats, Werewolves cannot shift between their two forms at will. During they day, they are in their human forms. During the night (regardless of moon phase), they are in their Wolf forms. (In emergencies, Werewolves can change into their Wolf form during the day. However, if they do so, they are stuck in their Wolf form until the next morning and they wake up with a sort of transformation "hangover.") The transformation is not painful, and they usually sleep through the night to day transformation. They cannot turn any species into a Werewolf by biting them or anything. They live in packs and follow the lead of their Alpha, but Werewolves are teased for being a "domestic" species because of the alliance they have with humans. Werewolves are carnivores, even when in human form, and they are fiercely protective (territorial) about the town they live in and the beings that live in it –especially the humans, who they view as frailer and weaker. They dislike Vampires because Vampires like to feed off humans, but they don't tend to have negative opinions about any other species. (They also have a special sympathy for other shifting species.)


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonio, Feliciano, (and Lovino, by association) welcome our trio to Town.

The town had no name. It really didn't need one. It's not like anyone required some way to distinguish it from other settlements if there were no other settlements –at least not one that wasn't a week's journey away over the mountains.

The town was mostly populated by humans and other Werewolves, which was pretty typical -those rare few who did happen to travel told them so. The two species, although they were quite different, lived in peace with each other. Sure they had a few scuffles. It wasn't some sort of utopian society, but they worked and lived out their daily lives together in community –protecting and providing for each other.

The town had two leaders: one human and one Werewolf. The humans elected their human representative and the Werewolves, of course, chose their Alpha to lead them. Together, the two leaders, termed the Diarchy, sought to bring protection and prosperity to the town.

The town had no fence or wall to shield its citizens. A wall had been under construction for years throughout the rules of various Diarchies, but it was never completed. Arthur could only speculate the reason being that there was no need for it when no one was stupid enough to attack. It wasn't the biggest population of creatures ever gathered. Matthew's Herd probably outnumbered the citizens of the town. However, if you picked any one person at random, if he or she couldn't transform into a clawed creature of the night, there was a good chance he or she could wield a gun. So, as the six of them entered the town, there was only one, lone night watchman patrolling the entrance of the main road, a rifle against his shoulder. He hesitated when he noticed the unfamiliar faces, but, after seeing Antonio, he nodded in the direction of the Werewolves' Alpha and returned to his beat.

It was hard for Arthur to get use to the fact that the cheerful, young Pup Arthur met all those years ago was now a powerful Alpha. However, it was obvious the idea was well situated in everyone else in the town's minds. As they moved down the dirt road, more than a few additional glances were shot toward Arthur, Matthew, and Alfred by both humans and Werewolves alike. They bent their heads to whisper to each other but only one dared to approach Antonio about it.

"…Alpha? Who-?"

"They are my guests."

With those four words, the curious Werewolf backed off and no one approached them again. It wasn't out of fear of Antonio. It quite the opposite: They trusted him absolutely. Questioning him was like accusing that he was somehow endangering the town through his actions. Arthur could tell from the way the other Werewolves and even the humans too were now ignoring the outspoken Wolf that, clearly, what he had just done was incredibly taboo. Arthur didn't want to imagine how it would have been trying to get himself and Matthew and Alfred into the town if not for Antonio's help. They would have been able to get in, but it would have been incredibly awkward. They wouldn't have been welcomed with open arms, that was for sure.

Antonio led them along the well, worn dirt roads. On either side stood wooden shops –most of which were closed down for the night; modest houses that glowed with candlelight through the painted, wooden shutters; and the doctor's clinic which hadn't changed much at all. Continuing on, the Werewolves and humans both gave them a wide berth either in respect for the Alpha or to keep distance from the out-of-towners. It was probably the latter because the Werecat had a hard time thinking that cheerful Antonio would induce that level of distress from his citizens. He seemed the type to have inside jokes with everyone and have been a shoulder everyone had cried on at some point or another.

Eventually, they reached one of the more fancy houses in the town. It had glass windows and had more than one floor level. Arthur couldn't help but feel inferior as he stepped into the house. He, who had literally lived in a cave his whole life, was now entering what would probably be the most luxurious building he'd ever set foot in.

Oh! He glanced down at his muddied feet and, for the first time, wished he had a pair of shoes. He quickly instructed Matthew to wipe his hooves off on the mat in the entrance, thankfully catching him just before the lad tracked dirt all over the house. The Centaur didn't take his eyes away from the marvel that was the house's interior as he obeyed. He'd never seen anything like this before. He didn't know what half of any of these items in the house were! The Calf was overwhelmed with a sudden urge to touch everything when Antonio interrupted his thoughts.

"Children, up to bed. You have all had long nights."

"Ve. Do we have to?" Feliciano asked with big amber eyes.

The elder smiled and shook his head.

"Buenas noches."

Matthew gave Arthur a sideways glance and the Werecat nodded for him to go. Feliciano led the way as he was the most eager to obey, but Lovino grumbled beside him.

"I'm only going because I don't want to give up my bed to prey," he said, stifling a yawn.

It was a little difficult for Matthew. He had never seen stairs before. Although it was self-explanatory, it was hard for him to coordinate his four hooves to step up the thin stairs and not trip. He made it with heavy reliance on the railing and a few close calls, but he made it.

With the children safely upstairs, Antonio turned to the other adult and smiled.

"Now we can finally hear what you have been up to after all these years! Come to the parlor and recline. I would offer you refreshment, but, regrettably, I do not have opposable thumbs at the moment."

"That is no problem, Antonio. I am more than grateful for your hospitality."

"Well, it's not everyday that I get to hear from such an old acquaintance."

The two came into the smaller room that was furnished with actual furniture. Arthur sank into the sofa and concluded that he could probably stay there forever. His sore back began to uncoil into the plush cushions and the Werecat decided that for annoying as humans were, they knew how to make proper luxury items.

Antonio hopped up on the opposing sofa, stretching for a moments before settling down and facing his guest.

"So how is your mother?"

"She's fine. Or, well, truthfully I haven't seen her in years. Her or any of my kin for that matter. Still, I guess no news is good news. But, I must ask you something, Antonio."

Antonio was, truthfully, unsatisfied with Arthur's answer considering it only brought up more questions, but he knew that, after seeing someone again for the first time in years and only truly knowing each other in their youth, bringing up a deep and personal subject such as family might be testing the bounds of their friendship. He played along with the topic change for now.

"What would that be?"

"It's the reason why I am traveling with a Centaur and a Bird. Have you spotted any Moose-Centaur herds in the area recently?"

"Hm. I don't believe I've heard anything. Both humans and Werewolves go hunting in the area so I can't know for certain. Lo siento. But what does this have to do with your young companions?"

"Oh, yes. Matthew was separated from his mother and his Herd. I am returning him."

This caught Antonio's attention. His ears perked up ever so slightly and his eyes roamed the opposing Shifter's face.

"And what would prompt this act of compassion from Werecat to Centaur?"

"Um, honestly, I'm not quite sure." He scratched the back of his head as he only realized this truth himself.

The Alpha smiled.

"It is fine, mi amigo. I see it in your eyes. It is the same look I give to my apprentices. I am not their padre either, but I see them as mis hijos nevertheless."

Arthur was jolted in his seat as he realized what his old friend was implying.

"O-oh, I must respectfully disagree. We are in drastically different situations. I am merely returning a lost child to his mother, and after which we will go our separate ways and likely forget about each other within a week. This one errand cannot be compared to the rearing a child by any extent of the imagination."

Antonio chuckled again, amused with himself or the situation. Arthur was unable to tell which.

"And what of the Hatchling?"

"Ah. There's the rub. Matthew found Alfred abandoned below his nest."

"Pobre niño…." Antonio's ears fell. He saw the full scope of Arthur's situation and wished it upon no one.

"Yes. Matthew is convinced that Alfred's parents will still want him back if he can find them. He believes I am taking him to find Alfred's mother and father, when, really, it would be best-"

"For you to take Matthew back to his Herd and for Alfred to stay with him."

"Exactly."

Antonio sighed, his tail hitting a throw pillow over and over as he sat in frustrated thought.

"I commend you for the struggle you have ahead of you. If I were in your situation, I don't believe I would have the courage to do what you must do when the time comes."

"Oh, you credit me with too much. I am simply returning Matthew to his mother. That hardly requires the kind of courage that would be required to lead a whole population. Surely your position is nothing if not a testament to your courage, Antonio."

"That may be so, but I have never had to give up my two sons before."

Antonio's wise green eyes drowned Arthur in a powerful sympathy for him. The Werecat was confused and slightly embarrassed. He didn't mean for the conversation to turn so solemn. He didn't think returning the Calf was anything substantial. He was simply explaining himself and making conversation, but he regretted it now. He didn't realize the Alpha would take it so personally and so emotionally –somehow prompted to imagine Feliciano and Lovino in Matthew and Alfred's position. He decided a topic change would be healthy.

"Yes, well…um, tell me about the human representative. Do you get along?"

"Gilbert? Oh, we get along great. Sometimes it can be difficult for him to be serious, but he is nothing but completely dedicated to the town," the Werewolf said, taking to the topic change well. "Oh! I have to tell you this funny story. One time we were supposed to be discussing an upcoming festival when all of the sudden he shouts, "I am awesome!", grabs a chair in one hand and the rest of his half-eaten sandwich and, before anyone could stop him, he…."

* * *

"Why are your ears so long?"

Those were Feliciano's chosen words to break the awkward silence. They were in Lovino's room because, although they were told to go to bed, Antonio never said anything about having to go to sleep. But, even though they were sort of rebelling, they weren't sure what to do to fill the time while they rebelled.

Matthew shifted his weight around on all his hooves and stared down at the ground. He'd never wondered why his ears were the way they were before, but he was sure that Feliciano didn't mean anything malicious by it.

"I-I don't know. They just are."

"Why do you think that Bird is your brother? You're stupid if you think he's your real brother. It's not possible."

Clearly Lovino's forte was not making good first impressions. Although it was sort of impossible considering the anatomy of his face at the moment, if he could have an expression, he would be scowling.

"I found him."

"Oh no! He was all alone?!" Feliciano gasped, his toothy jaw hanging open.

"Yeah, but I'm going to find a nice family to adopt him."

"Ve! We're adopted!" The more cheery Pup answered quickly.

"Shut up, Feli! No, we're not!" Lovino rounded on his brother, bearing down on him with flattened ears and sharp fangs.

"B-but it's true!" the brown-eyed Pup stammered. "Mama and Papa left so Antonio-"

"Mama and Papa didn't  _leave_! They _died_! And tomato-face won't  _ever_  be our papa!"

Matthew scooted away from the two Wolves as he watched them stare each other down. Or, more Lovino stare down Feliciano while Feliciano tried to shrink into the ground.

"H-hey, you're scaring Alfred!"

The two Werewolves looked over to their guests to see that the little Bird was chirping shrilly and that tears were fitfully emerging from the corners of his eyes.

"Oh no!" Feliciano leaped over to apologize. "Please stop crying, bambino! Please stop crying!"

The Pup even licked Alfred before Matthew could even protest, but he didn't need to. Apparently, Alfred absolutely hated the slobbery attempt at comfort and cried out louder. He thrashed around in Matthew's arms, kicking and waving his fists around as the tears came like a fountain.

"Look what you've done now!" Lovino growled, but avoided looking at anything but the ground.

"I-I didn't mean to!" Feliciano looked like he was on the verge of joining Alfred in his weeping fest when his brother spoke up again.

"Maybe he's just tired. Did either of you think of that, geniuses?"

While the words were harsh, they rang with truth.

"You can sleep in my room!" Feliciano said happily. "I'll just snuggle with fratello for the night!"

"H-hey!" The green-eyed Pup yelped. "It's  _our_  house! Why are they kicking you out of your own bed!"

"But Alfred and Matthew are guests!"

"Ugh. Fine. But only because I want a wall between me and that screaming Bird-thing. And if you steal all the covers again, I  _will_  bite you."

"Ve! Thank you, fratello! Well, goodnight, Matthew and Alfred!"

Matthew tried to thank the two Pups, but he couldn't get his soft voice to carry above Alfred's whines. He hurried out of the room and entered the room adjacent. He looked at the huge, square pile of blankets that were propped up on wooden beams similar to the one in Lovino's room, and he stopped.

"Um, how do I even…?" he trailed off as he realized that he would probably ruin the bed if he attempted to climb on top of it.

"I think you get to have it all to yourself, Alfie."

He carefully put the squirming Bird down in the center of the bed. His little fit had worn him out even more. His voice became shriller when he was out of Matthew's arms and he groped desperately for him, but Matthew was too tired to wait until the Bird fell asleep to put him down. The purple-eyed Calf was only moments away from falling asleep right then and there anyway so he didn't want to risk dropping Alfred on his head or something if he fell asleep while holding him.

Centaur slept standing up. Normally he would lean against a tree of some sort to support his upper body while snoozing, but the wall would do just fine. He was relieved when he finally had the opportunity to sleep properly again. In the cave, he didn't want Arthur to try to eat Alfred or something while he was sleeping so he slept lying down –that way he could still hold the Bird. Still, he was never meant to sleep that way. Now that he was sure Alfred was safe, he could feel at peace putting him down and sleep standing up again.

All of Matthew's thoughts were heavy. He couldn't bear to think about something for too long. He was too tired. His curl had fallen near his nose, which made his nose tickle, but he was too exhausted to even lift his hand to fix it. The room was just a tad chilly even with the windows. The cold night air still somehow able to snake its way in, but he was too tired to care at the moment. Too tired….

He was out cold before he knew it -his body dropping immediately into REM during which he dreamed of being back with his Herd. There, in dreamland, his mother stood in the green grazing fields running a comforting hand through Matthew's hair as he watched her lecture Arthur about the condition of their raggedy clothes. Above them, Alfred flew -crying out with joy against the blue sky, "Peeyah! Peeyah! Peeyah. …Peeyah. Peey-yah….!"

Suddenly, the Bird began to plummet toward the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some more town/universe trivia: There are no such things as Werewolf-Human hybrids. While Werewolves and humans can fall in love, they physically cannot have children together. This is the way it is with most species. The few species that can have healthy, hybrid offspring result in the children being infertile –like mules.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred gets cold.

" _Aaaah!_ "

Arthur woke with a start. His head was swimming from being launched out of a deep sleep when he realized the scream was Matthew's. His brain was slow to process, but it eventually rationalized that the situation  _probably_  required his assistance. He slowly climbed off the couch that Antonio so generously let him use, anticipating the back pain that was, to him, synonymous with mornings but found there was none. He tried not to admit that the soft padding was wonders more comfortable than a cave floor, but he would not give into the temptation to invest in such a  _human_ item. He might as well just die of shame right then.

Finally on his feet again, which  _were_  sore from the previous day's trek, he met the Alpha on the stairs. Apparently Antonio also heard Matthew's cry and regarded Arthur with a look of equal concern that was hid behind a mask of more experience. Feliciano and Lovino must have had their own share of nightmares before and Antonio was ready to take action.

"A bad dream?" It was less a question about the scream but rather about what action Arthur planned to take because of it.

"I will see what I can… do," said the Werecat slowly.

He was climbing the stairs while trying to conjure up comforting words to say when he heard the terrified scream again. This time it was clearly warbled by tears –and it was calling his name.

"ARTHUR! ARTHUR! PLEASE!"

This brought a little kick in his step. He thought that once the boy woke up that Arthur would simply have to reassure him that the bad dream wasn't real, but why would he scream again if the nightmare was over?

He jogged into the room that Matthew was in, and the boy was wide-awake and clearly terrified. He was trembling with fear and ran to him.

"Settle down, lad. What's wrong?"

"I don't know! I just woke up and he was…!"

The Werecat was confused until the Calf showed what he was cradling in his arms. It was Alfred.

And Alfred's skin was ice.

Arthur was assaulted by another painful lurch in his chest. It was the same one that tried to choke him when he thought Natalya was going to kill either Matthew or Alfred in that field. He didn't know what it was, but the twisted lump in his chest sucked all his breath away and replaced it with an intense and icy clarity of the situation. This was no dream, and they needed to act.

"Okay, Matthew. Here is what we're going to do. You're going to wrap him up in one of the quilts from the bed but don't smother him. Hold him close to you and try to warm him up as best you can. We're going to take him to the doctor to make sure that he will be fine. Do you understand?"

Matthew couldn't form words at the moment but rushed to do what he was instructed.

_Quilt. Close. Doctor._

_Quilt. Close. Doctor._

The mantra repeated in his head as he held on to the instructions like it was a literal lifeline. The Calf closed the little Bird-sicle in the thick blanket and wrapped whatever length his arms would allow around him as well. Next, doctor. He ran to the stairs.

Caution, by this point, was thrown so far into the wind that he didn't even realize what happened until he found himself at the bottom of the steps with a throbbing ankle and a strange, brunette man bringing him upright on his hooves again.

"Tiene cuidado, Matthew. You fell down the stairs. Are you oka-"

"Doctor!" the Centaur gasped, his head spinning and light. "He needs to get to the doctor!"

"Matthew, follow me."

Arthur's voice brought his immediate attention, and he back peddled out of the strange man's support, his hooves scraping on the unusual wooden flooring for traction. Arthur led him out of the house and onto the street, heading for a building down the road. The Werecat was taking a large, quick stride, but Matthew was furious he wasn't running. Matthew spotted the building that could only have been the clinic and rushed ahead of Arthur.

He burst through the door that had the name, "Doctor Ludwig Beilschmidt" on it and demanded of the empty room, "Help him!"

A man appeared in the doorway. He was tall and imposing and, frankly, he scared Matthew just a bit if not for his eyes that conveyed absolute confidence and professionalism.

"Bring him here."

As Matthew hesitantly made the transfer, Arthur walked in. He saw the poor Calf frozen where he stood as he watched his "brother" being taken away to a back room.

"Matthew?"

The voice startled the young Centaur, but, upon seeing who finally showed up, he ran to Arthur. He grabbed his sleeve with what would have been emphasis to drive home a point if he had actually been able to say anything. Instead, he just pointed to the hallway where his brother had been taken and breathed heavily through his mouth. Arthur, trying to swallow the young Calf's fears with just his eyes made his words very deliberate but soft.

"We are allowed to follow him. Come with me."

Matthew nodded and trailed after Arthur and the doctor, still holding onto Arthur's sleeve.

They found the doctor in a more well-lit room holding Alfred with care as he placed him on a table. The serious man didn't seem to notice the two other behind him or maybe he figured he had a patient that needed his attention more. Either way, he ignored Matthew and Arthur while he, with deliberate fingers, slowly unwrapped the baby from within the patterned quilt.

"Oh."

The man, Dr. Beilschmidt apparently, ran an analytical hand over the Bird's feathers and paused for a moment. After blinking a few times, he snapped himself back into work. Matthew watched at a tantalizing distance, but every time he looked at Arthur, the Werecat seemed calm as ever.

Suddenly, the young Centaur felt a rage boil up at Arthur. Did he not care at all about Alfred?! He should be scared just like he was! Why was he so calm! How  _dare_  he! A flowed over him until he saw the Werecat's hands: They were shaking. The rage simmered into confusion until Matthew couldn't figure out what he was feeling. Part of him wanted Arthur to be terrified and anxious like him, but he was starting to feel fresh fear grip him as he realized that Arthur already  _was_. A chill passed over his spine as he resolved to turn his gaze back to Alfred and the doctor.

"…piyah?"

That tiny chirp from Alfred sent what was the equivalent of a lightning strike through both Arthur and Matthew. Their hearts stopped and their skin changed temperatures about four times.

There was a grunt from the doctor, and he picked up the Bird then walked out the door. As they followed the human farther down the hallway, the décor transitioned into what looked more like a house than a clinic. It would make sense, after all. The doctor had to live somewhere. He continued into a larger room that looked like a kitchen. There was a furnace in the center to which he approached. He crouched down with Alfred tucked tenderly but firmly into his arms and squatted near it, the warm fire outlining him like some sort of angelic figure.

"I-is he…?"

Matthew's words sounded strangled as the lump in his throat lessened only enough for him to barely vocalize words.

"He is fine. He is just cold. I am warming him."

Arthur was snapped out of his relieved shock when he felt Matthew knock into him. He quickly braced himself as the Calf leaned on him heavily for support as it seemed all four of his legs decided to fail him for the moment.

"I-I'm s-so sorry-y! I'm so s-sorry!" The fire reflected in the shiny streams of tears that ran down the boy's face. "I-I'm the worst brother ever!"

The Calf was a fountain of guilt and sorrow as he sobbed into his own hands. His shoulders quaked and his breaths came suddenly and in gasps. He cried out occasionally as if he were being strangled and tears waterfall-ed down his face as he repeated the phrase "I'm sorry!" over and over again.

Arthur shook his head but failed to realize that probably wouldn't do any good when Matthew's eyes were only concentrated on making tears instead of being used for vision. However, Dr. Beilshmidt was quick to intervene in Matthew's self-loathing.

"He is in no danger. If he were outside during the night, it might have been a different story. He was shivering, his teeth were chattering, and he was stiff in the fetal position. He was doing all within his power to create and retain heat. His pupils were not dilated nor was he unresponsive or unconscious, both of which would be signs of the deadly third stage of hypothermia. I could conclude for certain that he was not at risk of any permanent damage nor death. Although I am more familiar with diagnosing human or Werewolf patients, but he is, clearly, not either of those...and neither are you." The doctor turned to examine them with skeptical blue eyes. "Both of you, correct?"

"That is correct. We're guests of Alpha Antonio."

The doctor blinked and returned his gaze to Alfred.

"I wish I knew more about Bird physiology. His temperature, after holding him near the fire for a while, feels like he has reached normal body temperature, but he is still shivering slightly so I can only assume that he has a naturally higher body temperature. This is backed up by the fact that he shouldn't be able to get this cold when it's summer. The outside weather would never be chilled enough for him to be showing symptoms of being this cold. It would conclude that because of his higher body temperature, temperatures are always much colder to him than it would be to us. He is still endothermic or warm-blooded as they say. He will warm himself up fast enough."

"Do you hear that, lad? He's going to be right as rain."

"B-but," the Calf sniffled, "why hasn't he gotten this cold before?"

"Well, how long has Alfred been out of your arms since you found him, Matthew? A minute? Thirty seconds? You've been keeping him warm this entire time because you were always holding him."

A train crashed in Matthew's mind. He…had been keeping Alfred from freezing all this time? But…he was the bad guy! He was the one that almost let him freeze to death! He was the worst big brother ever! How could he, a despicable creature capable of causing such danger to someone he cared so much about, also be a protector?

Before his brain could completely process this information, the doctor slowly walked to Matthew and Arthur before holding Alfred out to them to take. Arthur guided Matthew's hands, and he took Alfred into his arms again. It was automatic. The familiar weight restored, the Calf somehow felt a part of him was returned. He looked down at the Bird and saw he wasn't shaking anymore. He was back to a normal color, and he was smiling.

"Piyah!" he squeaked as he reached a pudgy arm up to Matthew's curl and batted at it.

The Centaur broke again, but it was out of joy this time. And why not? His tear ducts were clearly primed and ready.

"I'm sorry, Alfred! I promise this won't ever happen again! I'll protect you no matter what!"

He brought the Chick closer to him and hugged him gently. Salty water wouldn't stop flowing from pale, purple eyes, but they were happier tears. Alfred was fine and the little heart beating against Matthew's chest told him so.

Meanwhile, Arthur watched with a strange ache inside. The time he had been spending with Matthew was stretching him in ways that he never expected. His heart felt a little sore from the overuse –or, maybe, it was like he was exercising and finally strengthening a neglected part of him and was at last becoming emotionally healthy. All he knew was that if he stayed around Matthew and Alfred for much longer he would  _need_  a strong heart because the emotional burden they were forcing him to carry was becoming heavier and heavier by the day. He just hoped he could keep up with the demand or else be crushed.

"I will take you back to the lobby. Follow me."

Dr. Beilschmidt didn't seem like he wanted to interrupt but rather that he was intruding on a private moment and needed an escape. Besides, he needed to be available for any other emergencies that might arise.

The three followed the large doctor back through the hallways until they came to the more familiar front part of the building. There were three people sitting in the awkward front area right inside the building. One was an adult with wide green eyes and choppy brunette hair. He was the one that caught him when he fell down the stairs earlier. Why was he in Antonio's home? Two his left were two boys. They were clearly related, possibly twins. The first was rocking from side to side while singing a song to himself. He had red-ish brunette hair with a wayward curl that stuck out behind his left ear. His brother had a similar curl that swooped off the part in his more-true brunette hair in the front and leapt off to his right. He was sitting with a frown settled easily on his face as his green eyes tried to burrow a hole in the ceiling out of boredom.

When the four entered the room, the three guests' eyes turned to them with various expressions.

Arthur walked to the man and seemed very apologetic.

"Oh, Antonio, you didn't have to wait for us."

It clicked for Matthew. He was still a little slow to process things after finally realizing that nothing bad had befallen his little brother, but he figured it out. Since it was light outside, the Werewolves were in their human forms. The man was Antonio and the boys were Feliciano and Lovino. It was strange to see them look human, but, after being around Arthur for a short time, the concept wasn't that unusual to him.

"Of course we waited!" he said with a warm smile. "We couldn't leave you three while you were in distress! How is he?"

"Ve! Ludy~!"

One of the Pups ran over and launched a hug-attack on the doctor. He winced from the impact and wobbled to try to stay standing, but he forced something similar to a smile as he returned the gesture with an awkward, one-armed hug.

"Feliciano, we've talked about this."

"I know, but I haven't seen you for a whole  _day_  and Mr. Arthur and Matthew and Alfred came to see you then we came to see you and did you save Alfred? Oh! There he is! He looks fine! You're such an awesome doctor, Ludy! I wish I could be a doctor like you but I don't like blood or, well, I don't like hurt people with blood I mean I have to be able to hunt and Antonio's teaching me-"

"Feli, quit hugging the potato-eater. You'll get his stench on you."

"Feliciano. You  _are_  in Dr. Ludwig's personal space, niño. Could you give him some room, ¿por favor?"

"Ve. Okie dokie!"

Feliciano released Dr. Beilshmidt but didn't go very far. Apparently his definition of personal space meant that he wasn't touching someone so he stood next to his friend and bounced enthusiastically on his heels, eager to hear whatever Ludwig had to say.

"A-alfred is in need of thicker clothes," the doctor reported after gathering his composure. "It would prevent this from happening again and help him to maintain homeostasis."

"Oh! That's easy! I'll just take him to Feliks' store then. What a relief! ¡Gracias, Sr. Ludwig!"

"I am just doing my job. However, may I make an unprofessional inquiry as to why a Bird and a Centaur are staying with you in town, Herr Antonio?"

The Alpha smiled and nodded, happy to oblige.

"This is Arthur and his two charges, Matthew and Alfred. Arthur and I are old friends. In fact, he met your father back when he was running the clinic."

"Is that so?"

"Sí. He's passing through because he wanted to know if we spotted any Moose-Centaurs herds come by here recently. I told him that I hadn't heard of anything but there's no way to know for sure."

"Have you checked with my brother? He does keep all the town's records on file. Or, at least, he should. If any Wolves or humans came back from hunts with…." He gave Matthew a cautious glance. "If any Centaur came through here, it should be in the records. He may be a dummkopf sometimes, but he is good at what he does."

Antonio smacked his palm against his forehead.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"

"Would it be possible for you to introduce me to the Diarch?" Arthur asked.

"It would be no trouble at all! We can go there right now if you wish. Feliciano and Lovino can show Matthew where Felik's shop is. They can start looking at clothes while we talk to Gilbert. It won't take but a few minutes for him to check the records."

"Antonio, you are a lifesaver."

"No. That would be Dr. Beilschmidt. I am just a nostalgic, old fool."

Arthur laughed and, together, the two adults ushered four kids out of the overcrowded office. Arthur thanked Dr. Beilschmidt one more time and Feliciano yelled a promise to come see him later then they left the poor doctor in peace.

"Feliciano, Lovino –can you take Matthew and Alfred to Mr. Łukasiewicz's shop?"

"Ugh! Can't we go home and let them go by themselves? They're not going to get lost or anything and Mr. Feliks always tries to get me to try on girly clothes for some reason," Lovino grumbled.

"Lovi, please. It would be very helpful to Arthur and me if you would help out. Just stay in the store for a little while, and we'll be back in no time."

"Yeah right, stupid face. It'll be, like, three hours or something because you'll have to stop and talk to everyone on the way and then you'll have to talk to Mr. "Awesome" and…."

"Come on, Matthew! Let's go get Alfie some new clothes!"

Feliciano grabbed the Calf and pulled him down the dirt street with a pouty Lovino trailing behind them in their dust. Arthur turned to follow the Alpha as he started in another direction, toward the courthouse probably.

Soon, they would be one step closer to finding Matthew's mother and one step closer to the happy ending. Arthur felt good that he was doing the right thing, yet there was a tiny needle of sorrow that poked at him. He reasoned it was residual ache from the "heart exercise" he was going through. The pain would fade soon enough. Ignoring it, he continued walking down the path to his destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Useless Real-life Trivia: Birds do have higher body temperature so, basically, what we think is cold to us is even colder to birds. Feathers, however, are wonderful for insulation, but, for the areas that aren't covered by this fluffy protection such as their feet, they can either lay on them or stand on one foot and huddle the other near the rest of its body to keep that part warm. Birds will also do kind of what penguins do. They'll group together to share body heat, but it's usually in lines rather than huddles because, well, they are typically perched on a branch or something that would make huddling impossible.
> 
> So Alfred, because he only has Bird wings, doesn't have feathers on him anywhere else to keep himself warm so he's, normally, kinda cold. But, since Matthew has been holding him constantly, it hasn't been an issue before. It's okay, Mattie. Alfie forgives you!


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred and Matthew get new clothes and Arthur meets the second Diarch of the town.

The door to the clothing store rang with a happy chime of a bell as Matthew, Feliciano, and Lovino entered it. The Calf was immediately overwhelmed with all the colors. He'd never seen so many clothes in so many different shades and styles before. He was use to plain clothing –any clothing made with a dye was a rarity in his Herd because it was hard to find the time during the brief stops the Herd made sporadically.

"Hey! Pay attention, deer-kid. Feli's going to get Mr. Fancy from wherever he's knitting or something so get over here. I don't want to be in this place any longer than I have to."

Matthew clopped forward to where Lovino was waiting and reached him just in time for Feliciano to return with a rather…interesting human. He was dressed from head to toe in bright pink and the flashy clothing billowed behind him when he walked quickly.

"Matthew, this is the guy who owns this shop! His name is Mr. Łukas… Łukashis, uh, Łukasrisw-"

"Feli, I told you, like, a thousand times. You can call me Feliks."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Feliks."

"It's, like, great to meet you too, Matthew! Feli says you need clothes for- Oh! He's so adorable! Can I, like, hold him for a sec?"

Mr. Feliks reached out but Matthew gasped and backed away quickly. Feliks retracted his arms as if they touched a hot stove, and his eyes wide with surprise. The Calf, realizing what he had done, apologized profusely -forcing his heart to return to a normal tempo.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that."

Even so, he couldn't let Alfred out of his arms. Not when that almost killed him.

"It's totally fine, sport! Feli explained how you're, like, the best older brother ever so it's no big."

"Hey!" Lovino rounded on Feliciano. "You said  _he's_  the best older brother ever? What about me?!"

The other Pup smiled nervously and scratched the back of his head.

"I thought you were the same age…?" Matthew asked.

"Stay out of this, pony-boy! This is between us!"

Feliciano ducked behind Matthew and Lovino leapt to chase after him. They started to circle and dodge around while Matthew stood between them as the only obstacle keeping Lovino from catching his twin.

"When we get home, I'm going to rub tomatoes in your hair until you cry!"

"Eeek! I'm sorry, fratello! Please don't hurt the tomatoes!"

"You care more about the stupid tomatoes than you do me! You don't even like tomatoes!"

"Of course I do!"

"What?!"

"I like tomatoes, but only when you cook with them!"

Lovino stopped.

"…What did you say?"

"I like it when you cook tomatoes! Your home-made marinara sauce is wonderful!"

Romano was taken aback.

"You really think so?"

"Ve! Of course! Your sauce is so good, it doesn't bother me that your pasta tastes terrible!"

"WHAT?!"

Now, Feliciano Vargas wasn't known for having the most common sense, but he knew from pure Pavlovian training that when Lovino's face got that red, he needed to retreat as fast as possible.

"Eek! I surrender! Please don't hurt me!" the Pup screamed as he nearly knocked over several clothing mannequins to escape his brother's murderous grasp.

"Boys! Stop running around! …Look! I have new clothes for you!"

He held up the pieces of fabric with a malicious smile.

"T-That's a _dress_ , you moron!" Lovino shouted.

"I'm going to make you try it on if you don't quit wrecking my store."

"Ugh! I can't take it anymore! I'm going to wait outside."  
Lovino stomped out and slammed the door closed, nearly knocking the bell off.

Feliks sighed and put the frilly weapon of mass masculinity destruction back on a hanger.

"I brought a set of baby clothes, but, I'll, like, have to put holes in the back for his wings to fit through. This should keep him plenty warm."

With some baby wrangling and scissors, the two of them together were able to fit Alfred into the new clothes.

"Like, I'm worried about the holes I had to make in the back of the shirt. It might come unraveled because of all the cut strings eventually. I can make something for him that can have the holes purposefully put in. That way it will be much more, like, sturdy and stuff."

"Oh, you don't have to do that! This will work just fine for him!"

"No, really! I, like, really, really want to! I mean, I think I could make, like, a whole line of Bird clothing. Think of how I could work those wing holes as a sort of fashion statement! Oh! The possibilities are endless! Maybe the new clothes will attract Birds to the town to, like, live here! I already have so many ideas! Where are you staying in town? I might have to ask you to bring him back here for a reference."

"Um, we're not staying here permanently."

"Oh? When will you be back?"

"I don't know. Maybe never. I mean, I don't know."

"That is, like, totally lame. But I'll tell you what, I'll make another set of clothes for Alfred, and, like, whenever you end up coming back, you can pick them up or something."

"But, Mr. Feliks, I don't have anything to pay you for these clothes!"

"With the money I will make off of my new line of Bird-specific attire, I can afford to, like, give you this for free."

"But…I wish there was something. Oh! I know!"

Matthew reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the crumpled up bow that Alfred took from Natalya.

"I know it's not much, but maybe you can use this?"

Feliks smiled and took the ribbon, surprised at the quality.

"I know just what to do with it. Thanks, Matt."

Matthew smiled, glad that he could at least repay Feliks in some way. He looked down at Alfred who was now snuggly warm in proper clothes. Now he could give Alfred back to a nice Bird family and be confident that the cold wouldn't be able to get to him. And, he could tell the Birds where to come if they wanted better clothes too! That thought made Matthew feel good inside –knowing that he was not only helping Alfred but other Birds as well. After all, he wanted not just Alfred, but Alfred's caretakers to be happy and warm too –just like every family should be.

* * *

Arthur once again felt dwarfed and out of his element as he was led into an extravagant human building. Although, by Arthur's standards, "extravagant" could be used to term any place of residence that didn't have a dirt floor.

The Alpha turned a corner and walked up to the door at the end of the hall. He reached out for the door handle but withdrew quickly as if it had burned him, leaving his hand hovering above the shined brass in contemplation.

"…Antonio?" Arthur asked.

"Um…it might be best if you," he spoke deliberately, "were to let me go in first."

"Oh. Of course," Arthur sputtered quickly.

"It's just, I don't know how he's going to react to you. It will depend on his mood. Hopefully we will catch him on a good day and this won't take very long. Although, the last time I brought someone new…. Well, just to be safe, whatever goes on in there, …don't panic and let me handle it."

"O-okay."

Antonio forced a smile that failed immediately into a tight-lipped frown as he moved his hand toward the handle again. Fingers securely wrapped around the mechanism, he took a deep breath and twisted. The door swung back and revealed the room behind it.

It looked normal enough. There was a pair of desks in the center and shelves upon shelves of documents were stuffed in shelves along the walls. Light streamed through the window –outlining a dark figure facing away from them in a hazy glow.

Antonio stepped forward quietly as if he was nervous or cautious. Arthur followed his lead. They made it halfway to across the room when Arthur stepped on a loose panel of flooring. A horrible squeak ripped through the tense silence in the room. Antonio snapped his head back to look at him with wide, fearful eyes and Arthur's mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish as his brain failed to even form the correct words to apologize.

"So it has come to this,… _Antonio_."

The voice sent a new panic through Arthur as the person by the window slowly turned around to look at them. His hair was snow white and his skin was like a sheet of snow. Ruby red eyes glared at Antonio which, even indirectly, sent chills down Arthur's spine.

"Gilbert," Antonio said with warbled pitch, "there's no need for this-"

"I warned you, Antonio, and not only do you violate our agreement, but you bring  _him_  here!"

The Alpha stepped in front of Arthur and put up his hands in a calming manner.

"Leave him out of this, Gilbert. This is between you and me."

Arthur was shocked. He thought that just yesterday Antonio talked fondly of the human Diarch. Was that all a ruse? Was this happy town where Werewolves and humans lived together peacefully really just a façade and underneath were years of tension and manipulation?

"Antonio?" Arthur asked.

"Silence!" the red-eyed human snapped, stepping toward him menacingly. "You don't know what kind of game you're playing right now, do you, outsider?"

"I didn't realize-"

"Liar! I have been anticipating this moment for a long time. At last the day has come."

Arthur barely had enough time to run through his memories in a blind panic to see if he had somehow offended Gilbert or even  _met_ Gilbert in the past before the human Diarch reached his hand inside his jacket and the Werecat bolted for the door. However, Antonio charged toward the pale man.

"No!"

However, he tripped over his own feet and landed flat on his face in a hard crash. Arthur skidded to a stop when he heard his friend fall. He couldn't let Antonio be killed for something he had apparently done to offend one of the town's leaders. He saw the Alpha was rolling on the ground, holding his foot, and he heard the strangest sound coming from Gilbert. It was a strange hissing sound that almost sounded like…laughter?

"Kesesese! I can't even breathe, Toni! That was  _awesome_!"

The Werewolf looked up and smiled.

"I didn't mean to ruin it at the end there, but that was still one of the best ones, wasn't it?"

"Yeah! You should have seen your buddy's face when I was all like, 'outsider!' It was so awesome, but not as awesome as me of course!"

"You are getting so much better at the creepy-serious voice though!"

"I know, right?"

Arthur, still a safe distance away, watched as Gilbert went over and helped Antonio up from the floor. The two laughing and smiling like they hadn't just threatened each other two seconds ago.

"Arthur, you can come over here, amigo."

The Werecat was still hesitant, but was suffering from such severe mood whiplash that he didn't know what to think anymore.

"Arthur, _ja_? You did so well for a first time! You got really into character! No wonder Toni brought you here! I mean, no one's ever dressed up for the part before! Those fake eyebrows are awesome!"

Arthur was so overwhelmed with a dire need to correct all four-thousand things wrong with the man's statements, but all he could manage to say was, "My eyebrows aren't fake."

"Ooh," Gilbert winced. "That's, uh, that's rough, man. Well, I can't go out in the sun for long periods of time, but we have to deal with the card's we're dealt, right? Be it albinism or excessive eyebrow foliage."

"' _Foliage_ '?! M-my eyebrows are completely fine!"

"You just keep telling yourself that. Kesesese!"

Gilbert continued to laugh (which, honestly, sounded like a snake asphyxiating), and Arthur looked toward Antonio who just smiled, shook his head, and threw up his arms in surrender.

"So that whole thing just now… wasn't real?" Arthur asked.

"It was  _real_  acting!"

"Gilbert just likes to mess with people. It's more like hazing."

"…I see."

"So what brings you to see the awesome me, Arthur?" Gilbert asked, as he walked around to swing an arm over the Werecat's shoulder.

"Um, I was wondering if you had any records of a Centaur herd moving through the area around four days ago?"

"Hm. Four days ago…." The albino moved to his desk and carefully leafed through the stacks of paper that were upon it. "Moose-Centaur?"

"Yes! Did you see them?"

"It says here that one of the human hunting parties spotted a Herd and engaged them, but they were unable to actually catch any of them. Many of them were young and they were unsuccessful."

A warm rush of relief worked its way over Arthur's skin.

"Does it say in what direction the Herd were headed when they escaped?"

"Not explicitly, but I guarantee they went North."

"Why is that?"

"The hunting is dangerous up North being dragon season and all. Our hunters wouldn't abandon such a great source of food that easily if not for Dragon Mountain being too close for comfort."

"Are you really that scared of a dragon attack? Has the dragon awoken?"

"The dragon that lives on Dragon Mountain has been asleep for nearly fifty years. However, there are some humans in the village who are old enough to remember the utter devastation wrought when that dragon was awake last. And the Werewolves feel that, if the hunting parties hunt too close to the mountain, the dragon could follow their scent here if it awoke."

"Gil, every day that dragon is asleep means the probability of it waking tomorrow all the greater. That dragon will wake eventually."

"We're fifteen miles from the mountain. Even if it does wake, it won't come this far to feed. We're perfectly safe here."

Antonio's lips were in a tight line and he didn't look at Gilbert, but he didn't object to his statements anymore either. Arthur glanced back and forth between the two Diarchs and decided he had definitely overstayed this conversation and probably overstayed his hospitality at the town as well. He had what information he needed so it was time to move on. Matthew's mother was waiting.

"Diarch Gilbert and Diarch Antonio, I am truly grateful for your assistance and generosity, but I must be going."

"Oh, really?" Antonio's green eyes flashed with sorrow. "But you just got here, amigo!"

"I know, but I must return Matthew to his mother."

"Who?" Gilbert cocked his head to the side.

"I guess you are right," the Alpha said, ignoring Gilbert's question. "I will bring you to Feliks's shop. He should have found Alfred some clothes by now."

"Thank you. It was…nice to meet you, Gilbert."

"Bye, Eyebrows!"

Arthur tried not to react to the taunt as he followed Antonio out the door. In fact, he tried to forget everything that happened in that room –except the information about the Centaur. He was incredibly relieved that Matthew's Herd was alright. It should be only a matter of tracking them down, which would be elementary –if he could just transform. If he was able to somehow get into his first form even for a little while, he was confident that he could find the Moose-Centaur in no time.

* * *

Arthur and Antonio found Lovino sitting in the dirt with his arms crossed outside of the tailor's shop when they arrived.

"Lovi?"

"They're inside, stupid-head. I know you're not looking for me. …And don't worry about me making pasta ever again."

"Why would you say that? Ever time Feli drags Ludwig to the house, he eats your pasta. I've never heard him anything but compliment it."

"Yeah…but he doesn't count!"

Antonio looked at his poor charge with eyes that showed a sympathy that would have been long depleted in others. He waved Arthur ahead as the Alpha sat down next to the stubborn Pup who snorted at the gesture and looked away.

Arthur pitied his old friend and quickly escaped into the shop just as Feliciano exited. He quickly spotted Matthew and Alfred. They were toward the back wall talking to a teenaged girl.

"Arthur, look! Alfred will never get cold again!"

Matthew held the Eaglet up for him to see and the Bird giggled at the height change. He was wrapped in a set of thick, deep blue, baby garments.

"Didn't Mr. Feliks do a good job? There are even holes in the back for his wings to go through!"

Arthur took a double take. So it wasn't a girl after all. That could have been awkward.

"Thank you. We are grateful for your kindness."

"Like, it's no big. When you are in town again and stuff, like, come by and see if I have the custom clothes I'm making for him done."

"I highly doubt we will be returning-"

"Matt told me that too, but I will always be here if you, like, end up coming back here again anyway. The glass being half full and stuff like that."

Arthur could tell that there was no changing this teen's head, although he debated whether there was much of anything in there along with all that air. Still, he found himself nodding.

"Of course. Thank you."

"Yeah! Good bye, Mr. Feliks!" Matthew called cheerfully, following Arthur back out the door.

The Werecat was hesitant in exiting the building for fear of walking in on a bad situation, but he found that it was more or less diffused. Lovino's face wasn't red and he didn't look like he wanted to kill everything that moved. Arthur was impressed.

Antonio walked to meet Arthur and gave a sad smile.

"Is this it then, amigo?"

"We know where we need to go so I can't take advantage of your hospitality any longer."

"You must humor me for just one more. I sent Feli to fetch you some traveling supplies. I can tell you are eager to start the last part of your journey."

Arthur just shook his head and smiled. He felt that if he said "thank you" one more time today then the word would lose its meaning.

"I wish I could pay you back somehow."

"You can do that by stopping by town again when you are on your return trip back home."

"I think I can do that."

Then Feliciano bounded back, a sack of supplied swinging precariously from his arms as he ran.

"Here you go, Mr. Arthur! This is for you!"

"Thank you, Feliciano."

The Pup beamed with pride, glad that he completed the mission successfully. Arthur gathered the bag into his arms and swung the strap over his shoulder.

"I guess this is goodbye."

"Bye bye, Mr. Arthur! Bye, Matthew! Bye, Alfred!"

"…Lovi? Are you going to say-?"

"Arrivederci," he said flatly, waving his hand as if to shoo them away.

"Alfred, can you say "bye"?"

The Bird looked up with a goofy smile and grabbed at Matthew's hand that was demonstrating how to wave.

"Piyah!" he exclaimed upon ensnaring a finger in his tiny grasp and Matthew shrugged.

"Close enough. Goodbye, everyone!"

Arthur and Matthew turned around and started to head out of town, but paused for a moment as they heard a voice call out to them before they got more than a few steps.

"Arthur, I hope you make the right decision."

The Werecat wasn't sure he wanted to decipher what the Alpha was insinuating there, but he simply nodded and stammered, "…I-I will."

They continued down the dirt road –Feliciano shouting farewells until they were out of sight.

"Bye! Bye! I hope you get to where you're going! I hope you come back soon!…I hope Alfred doesn't freeze again!"

"Ooookay, Feli. That's enough. Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Werewolves don't live a long as humans. They only live about fifty years instead of the human average of seventy. That's why no Werewolves would have remembered the last time the dragon that lives nearby was awake.
> 
> Species Bio: Dragon  
> Dragons are the most feared creatures in the land/world/AU. They live in caves high up in mountains and come down to hunt on anything and everything that is meat. Dragons, however, hibernate for years at a time. No one is sure what causes a dragon to go in and out of hibernation, but they have almost never awoken during the cold months. This is what caused the warmer months, mainly spring and summer, to be termed "Dragon Season." When a dragon does wake, the dragon often goes into a feeding frenzy. A single dragon, can easily wipe out the population in an entire area. However, sometimes a dragon will only feed briefly before going back into hibernation again for years. Dragons are the least known of the species and there are more legends and rumors about them than anything. However, a common rumor is that dragons are extremely intelligent and are capable of speech.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> France's first appearance. (Oh, yeah. There's also a dragon.)

Toris Laurinaitis yanked the reins again as he heard a branch snap in the distance. A flash of reflex brought his rifle to his shoulder –aimed in front of him. He waited for a few heartbeats before lowering it and balancing it on the pommel of the saddle again.

He reached down a shaking hand and stroked the horse's mane and neck.

"It's just my imagination again," he cooed as if the horse was the one that needed to calm down.

He gently kicked his heels and urged the horse to continue. Toris's paranoia was not without reason. There were many dangerous things that could attack and end him out here in the woods. Vampires, Birds, Minotaurs, the Dragon, or, even worse, a very angry albino Diarch who discovered that not only was his apprentice missing so was his precious horse.

The more he kept riding, the more he was aware of how awkward he still felt being in the forest. He was training to be a hunter –someone who knew the woods like the back of his hand—but he stuck out like a sore thumb. At least it was because of his clumsiness instead of his the brightly-colored hunting attire his cousin so enthusiastically made for him. His poor cousin somehow interpreted his request for something simple and camouflage as frilly and bright pink. Toris shook his head at the memory. He loved his cousin. He really did. It was just that sometimes he wasn't all there in the head.

He continued riding in the direction his hunting party saw the Herd run off. He shivered at the embarrassment that still washed over him at the thought of that incident four days ago. If he had just found a way to calm down enough to keep his hands steady, he might not have missed his shot.

His hunting party had been following that Herd for a full couple hours until it finally stopped to graze. Everyone was counting on him to make this shot count, but he missed and sent the whole Moose-Centaur Herd into a stampede. The ride back to town was the most humiliating of his life. He couldn't even bear to look anyone in the face for the past three days. That's why he was going to make up for it now. He'd bring back something for the town to eat. He would prove that he was able to provide for the town just like every other hunter did. He'd create a second chance for himself, and he wouldn't go back until he had freshly-killed game in his hands.

He maneuvered the horse slowly, careful to avoid letting his clothes snag on a plant or the horse's hooves to accidently step on a crunchy twig. The forest's beauty would never cease to amaze the young man, but he couldn't let anything distract him from his mission.

He stopped again when he heard commotion. A huge flock of Birds rushed above him in the sky. He sat silently as he watched them only to notice that what he thought was one Flock was actually multiple Flocks. Several types of Birds flew in a mutual rush, their wings flapping as fast as they could go. His horse snorted and shuffled in place as if it finally shared Toris's paranoia.

The apprentice felt his legs go cold. Recalling lessons his mentor told him, Birds often hated each other. The reason they were all flying in the same direction must have been something pure instinct. He had to know. He looked around, his stealth more or less forgotten, and spotted a tree that had branches sturdy enough to climb. He dismounted, tied the horse to the tree, and climbed.

Once he was at the top branches and able to see over the thick canopy of forest, he found himself ducking down quickly to avoid being rammed by the Birds that flew just above the tree line. He waited for a moment and much more cautiously poked his head up above the leaves. He looked and confirmed his conclusion that this wasn't just one, big Flock. In fact, they weren't even flying in the same direction. They were all scattering from one common point of origin, feathers hanging in the air in testimony to the speed and desperation of their mass exodus.

He squinted his eyes to see if he could spot the reason behind all this panic. A trail of black smoke slithered up from a point in the forest and Toris understood.

Fire.

The wind was blowing North so the fire probably wouldn't spread to the town. That was good. Well, it seemed he couldn't hunt in that direction anymore. Maybe he could head more East?

He was struggling down the tree when he heard a low noise in the distance that made his joints freeze. It was like thunder, growing in loudness as the sound blast rolled closer. Toris managed a fleeting glace toward the sky to find it cloud-free when the wave of sound hit him. The teen was shaken from his perch and crashed to the ground. He stayed there a minute with wide eyes and shaking hands and the horse whinnied and yanked at the reins that kept it bound to the tree.

Toris was only sixteen. He would be the last person to say that he should trust his instincts about much of anything, but he just knew in some core piece of himself that he had just heard the roar of a dragon.

* * *

Dragon Mountain loomed gradually higher and higher as the trio made their way into its shadow. There was some instinct inside Arthur that told him he was treading into the territory of a dangerous predator, but he shoved those fears down and kept his head on straight.

The odd trio had been traveling for somewhere close to five hours. They took several breaks along the way –most of them were on account of Arthur's wimpy feet and once was to snack on the small bits of dried meat and drink from the canteen that were in the bag Feliciano give them. Overall, the travelling wasn't all that eventful. Alfred would mimic Matthew's humming and chirp when his "older brother" stopped paying attention to him. The Centaur would point to a plant and the Werecat would have to discern for him if the plant was okay to eat or not. Arthur was left to the navigation.

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Matthew?"

"I…I miss my mom."

Arthur knew exactly what Matthew was trying to say and Arthur was relieved. The lad wanted to take care of Alfred, but he wanted his mother. He was starting to get homesick, but he just couldn't bring himself to say it. It was as if saying it was admitting that he was putting himself before Alfred somehow, but he was still only a Calf -a Calf that Arthur overheard bawling for his mother back at the cave even after one day of separation from her.

"Do you want to go back to your mother, Matthew?"

Matthew didn't look at him, but nodded his head as a few tears escaped down his face.

"That is probably for the best anyway. I'll take you to her." Arthur played it off like that wasn't his plan the entire time already.

"But, Arthur, how long do you think it will be before we find the Herd? Are we even going the right way?"

"It just so happened the topic came up while I was talking with Antonio. He mentioned that he heard a Moose-Centaur Herd was heading North. We shouldn't be too far behind them considering that's the direction we have been heading for some time now."

Matthew's eyes lit up, and he couldn't keep a smile off his face. Then a different thought drug the corners of his mouth back into a frown.

"…But what about Alfred?"

"I think that you should take him to your mother and ask her what you should do with him."

Arthur had to hide a tiny smirk because of how he could envision that scene to happen. He could picture little Matthew presenting Alfred like he had just found a lost puppy and then Matthew's poor mother cocking her head to the side and gaping at the Bird -knowing that the answer couldn't be as simple as, "Put it back where you found it."

"Do you think my mom will know any Birds? Hey, do you think, after my mom finds a Bird family to adopt Alfred, that I'll ever see him again?"

"I'm not sure. What if your mum can't find a family to adopt him though? Would it really be that terrible if Alfred stayed with you?"

"But I'm not a Bird. Shouldn't he be with his family?"

Arthur bit his tongue. He thought he explained this already. Birds don't adopt. Natalya tried to eat him for crying out loud! But he restrained himself and carefully chose his words.

"Don't you call Alfred your brother? Why couldn't you be his family?"

"Even though I'm a Centaur?"

"Matthew, do you remember what Natalya said? She said that you already loved Alfred more than his family ever would. Many Birds don't have families as nice as yours. You are the reason Alfred is alive today."

"Really?! Alfred can be my brother?! He can stay with me?!"

"You should talk to your mother, but I doubt-"

"Yay! Alfred is going to stay with me! He's going to have a mommy again! The best mommy in the world! I can take him with me when we go playing in the creeks, and I can teach him some songs that the Herd sings and everything!" Matthew squeezed Alfred into a tight hug and Alfred chirped happily.

He tried not to imagine the situation the Herd would be forced into when Matthew brought Alfred to them. It would probably upset a few of them and it would be a huge inconvenience, but he doubted the Centaur would leave him for dead. Arthur smiled and shook his head.

Hook, line, and sinker. His whole plan had finally come to fruition. He successfully convinced the Calf to stop trying to give the Eaglet away to a Bird and he was now taking the Centaur back to his mum! Alfred would have a future, Matthew would have a family, and Arthur would have his cave where he could continue to sit on the damp floor alone in the dark. That's what he wanted all along, …wasn't it?

"Arthur, will you say 'hi' to my mom when we find her?"

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts.

"Um, I'm not sure your mother would be very thrilled to meet a Werecat."

_Or the one who suggested dumping the Bird on her in the first place_ , Arthur thought.

"B-but you have to meet her!"

Arthur forced a smile. He knew he couldn't say 'no.' All he could do was dread that encounter and pray he was allowed to get out of there quickly.

"Sure, Matthew."

"Yay!"

The Calf came over and gave him a one-armed hug, squinting his eyes with happiness. Arthur was a little taken aback. He couldn't recall the last time anyone had hugged him. The little Calf released him after a second and pranced off, humming to himself. Arthur stood there for a moment in shock before jogging to catch up to the young Calf.

The wind was blowing at their backs, whooshing the leaves against each other in the thick overhang of forest. Arthur had eventually lulled himself back into a rhythm –his mind blurring the time together between Matthew's metered hoof-steps and his own bipedal pace. It was quiet and he rather enjoyed it, but, when Alfred wasn't chirping and Matthew stopped humming, he realized just how alarmingly quiet it was.

There were no animal calls. No Birds singing, no mice or rabbits rustling the undergrowth. The forest was empty-sounding. Where was everyone? From every other creature's point of view, Arthur was a human. He was just as little a threat as Matthew. Then what could cause them to hide? Arthur's senses went to red alert. The silence had continued for too long. He knew it was unnatural. With only the wind to rush ahead of them toward the Mountain, it was extremely foreboding.

They continued walking for a few more minutes before Arthur just couldn't take it anymore.

"Matthew, stop," he hissed, keeping his voice to a whisper.

"Why?"

"Shh! Stay here and don't move. I…need to check something."

The Calf caught on to Arthur's worry more than he hoped. The Calf held Alfred tighter to himself, and he started to look around.

Although his eyesight wasn't as good in this form, he could spot something unusual in the distance. He slowly crept forward through the brush and thick foliage. He gradually peaked out from behind the tree and blanched at what he saw.

The entire forest in front of him was burned to the ground. There wasn't any fire any more only because there was nothing left to hold a flame. Ghost-like smoke rose from the field of grey ash.

The only reason he hadn't smelled it or seen the smoke was because they were upwind from it. It must have been the reason the forest was so silent –everything had run for their lives. Well, almost everything.

He looked to see another person standing on the edge of the burn site, watching the burned area with a look of pure agony on his face. He was a Bird, which struck Arthur as odd. He would have thought that Birds would have been the most likely to escape from something like a fire. That's when he noticed what kind of Bird he was: a Peacock. Peafoul can fly, but their wings can't handle sustained flight, only short bursts that could allow them to reach high tree branches. The males with their long tail feathers would have an even harder time. But, that didn't explain why this particular Bird was here. He looked unharmed, just very distraught.

"Arthur, what happened?"

Arthur turned to see that Matthew had disobeyed his instructions and surrendered to curiosity. A movement caught the side of Arthur's eye and, before he knew it, he was assaulted by the Peacock.

The Peacock ran over and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to face him.

"Did you see 'er?! Did you see where she went?!"

"Unhand me!" Arthur shouted, struggling to free himself from the desperate grip the blue-eyed Bird had on him.

"She must 'ave gone by this way! Did you see 'er?!"

"No! I haven't seen anyone! Let go of me!"

Arthur broke free and backed away, keeping himself at a good distance. The Peacock opened his mouth and made a sort of squeaking noise, like something was breaking inside of him. Then he looked behind Arthur and gasped.

"You!"

The Peacock ran at Matthew. The Calf jolted and stumbled backward, twisting his arms tighter around Alfred as he prepared to defend him, but there was no need. Arthur saw the Peacock's target and dove in between them. He transformed and snarled, arching his back and baring his fangs.

"Don't touch him! Get away from us, you maniac!" Arthur commanded, effectively stopping the crazy Bird's advance.

"Non!" the Peacock shook his head vigorously, his shoulder-length, blond locks fanning out from his head. "You don't understand! He's one of the Herd, and he's  _alive_! A Calf no less!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"If he got away, then certainly my Jeanne did too! She escaped! She _must_ have!"

The Bird suddenly grabbed at his heart with one hand and rose a fist to the sky with the other.

"See? You can't have them all, dragon! You can't have them all!"

He the collapsed into a fit of high-pitched laughs which, paired with the way his blue eyes shook feverishly within their sockets, completed the air of absolute lunatic.

The Werecat feared his eyebrows would never return to their normal positions from being pinched inward in a state of concerned confusion for so long.

"Arthur? Who is this?"

"I don't know, but we shouldn't stay here. He doesn't seem mentally sane at the moment, and he's claiming the dragon did this. Even so, there was a fire here which means it is unhealthy to stay around for too long-"

"No. I meant  _him_."

Arthur turned to see that Matthew was standing in the middle of the ashed area, looking down at a human child who could be no older than five.

Arthur began to slowly work his way across the disfigured landscape. Thankfully the ash wasn't very hot so it wasn't long before he was standing in front of the boy.

The boy was covered in ash that stuck to what he thought might have been blood. The boy didn't look like he was harmed –the blood wasn't his. Still, it was a disturbing thought because it had to have come from somewhere. The kid was wearing black clothes that were too big for him. The shirt hung off one shoulder and the sleeves stretched several inches over his fingers. It was the same with his trousers where the extra length bunched up down by his feet.

Matthew looked to Arthur then the kid then to Arthur again. Oh. He was supposed to do something, wasn't he?

"Oi. Are you alright?" Arthur asked.

The kid slowly raised his head, grey ash falling off of his dark hair, and he looked at Arthur with his large eyes. The irises almost swallowed the pupil they were such a dark brown, but they glistened with unshed tears. He remained silent.

"Is he okay?" The Calf stared at the kid with that same sympathy he had for Alfred.

Oh, no. What was he supposed to say now?

The kid took his abnormally huge eyes and cast them upon Matthew now. Alfred looked over to see what was so interesting that it drew his Matthew's attention away from him.

"Piyah!" Alfred exclaimed, upset with not being the center of the world.

The child jumped at the Bird's loud proclamation and shrunk. Literally shrunk. The black fabric swallowed him and he collapsed onto the ash. Arthur's jaw dropped as he had never seen anything like that before.

The kid disappeared into his clothes even more until he was swallowed up by them entirely, now a large bump under the black cloth. Arthur reached over hesitantly and pawed through the fabric until he found… a baby? The Werecat blinked several times, but that didn't seem to be able to wake him up from this weird dream. What stared up at him was definitely the same child. It had the same dark hair and huge brown eyes, but it was now an infant –about the same age as Alfred. In fact, he was probably the  _exact_  same age.

"How did he do that?" Matthew asked.

"I'm not sure. I mean, I have heard the superstitions about creatures that were able to change their age, but I thought that it was referring to some extinct species of shifter. I never thought I would be witness to something like this."

Now he was faced with how to get the infant out of the field of dust. It didn't matter what this creature really was. It was dangerous to the health for anything to stay in this field.

"Um, if you can change your age so you can walk on your own, I can help you get to wherever you need to go," Arthur said.

The child blinked at Arthur and began to shift again. His limbs grew and began to fill his clothes once again until he stopped aging at about the same age as Arthur, a full adult. His clothes fit him perfectly now, and he brought himself to a stand.

"S-splendid. If you will just follow us…," Arthur began, wondering what in the world he had just got himself into.

That's when they heard the roar.

A heart-stopping sound shook the forest around them which struck a panic in everyone's hearts.

"It's back! The beast! It's back!" The Peacock suddenly jolted to life from the stupor he had worked himself into on the sidelines.

"Matthew! We need to-"

But the Centaur seemed frozen, a statue staring at the sky in pure terror. A huge shadow fell across the field as a dragon, an  _actual_  dragon, appeared as a living nightmare in the sky.

"Matthew, we need to get out of here! Now! Move!" Arthur pleaded, but the Calf was lost to his overwhelming fear. It blocked out all his senses and tunneled his vision. There was nothing in this universe that existed apart from that dragon and his crushing terror. He needed to do something  _now_!

"Matthew! MATTHEW!"

Then Arthur bit Matthew.

It was a short nip on the leg, but it was enough to draw blood. It was the only thing Arthur could think of that would bring the Calf back to reality. The Calf jumped, but didn't seem to register the pain. His terrified gaze was now locked on Arthur as he shook and desperately cried, " _Arthur_!"

Then the dragon landed with a huge thud, facing away from them. Dust flew up in the air and hung suspended for a moment before floating down again.

The dragon was huge. Its scales were a deep green and they layered like a snake's skin. It's wings were leathery and so different from a Bird's that he would have had trouble believing that they could actually assist in flight, that is, if being a witness to them in action had not been the last thing he would ever see in this life.

And Arthur was frightened. So frightened that it physically hurt him in his chest, but he somehow found himself crouched in front of Matthew, just as he did when facing the Peacock –arched back and extended claws. As if the same defense techniques would transpose to when defending against a dragon. But it was all he knew to do.

The dragon started to turn around, shifting its weight between its enormous, clawed feet and dragging its tail through the grey ash. Arthur and Matthew waited for their ends.

Suddenly, just before the dragon had craned its long neck all the way around to see them, there was a flash of color that burst in front of them. Arthur jumped only to realize that it was the tail feathers of the Peacock.

The Peacock was on his knees, his hands out in front of him to brace himself against the ground as he held up his enormous tail feathers that each stretched at least twelve feet in an arc –effectively hiding himself as well as Arthur and Matthew from the dragon's view with his makeshift cover.

Suddenly, Arthur realized who wasn't with them.

Dread washed over him, but he still felt a selfish relief that, maybe, because the creature that could change its age was still out there, the dragon would have something else to focus on besides them.

However, the sounds Arthur was waiting for never came. Instead, there was a huge gust of wind that blew the Peacock over, his feathers acting like a sail. Arthur looked up to see the dragon disappearing into the distance with a black-garbed figure in its claws.


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

An unbelievable relief swept over Arthur, and he found himself changing back into his human form. For once in his life, he just didn't care. He was alive. Matthew and Alfred were alive. They had seen a dragon and lived. His inconsistent shifting was not even remotely one of the things he cared about at the moment.

He turned his neck to see Matthew's condition. The boy was still frozen -his breathing labored and hard. Arthur rose to his feet out of the ashes and carefully approached him. The Calf looked like he would shatter at the slightest provocation, and Arthur regarded him as the wounded animal he was. With slow movements, the Werecat neared him.

"Matthew?"

The Calf jolted out of his daze and his four knees trembled. Arthur saw him start to collapse and quickly intercepted him –gripping him around the chest to hold him to a stand so he wouldn't aggravate his injured leg even more.

"You're alright, lad. You're alright. I have you."

The Centaur was shivering violently but buried his face into Arthur's collarbone.

"Is 'e okay?"

Arthur glanced over to see the Peacock was hovering nearby, wringing his hands as he stood awkwardly.

"Why do you even care?" Arthur asked, looking the Peacock up and down. "Why did you save us?"

His voice wasn't accusatory but simply questioning.

"I do not know. I'm still trying to figure it out myself." The Peacock smiled after a self-conscious laugh.

Arthur looked to the side, but still said, "Thank you." Regardless of any reason, the Peacock tried to save their lives. He was entitled that much.

"Je m'appelle Francis. What is your name?"

"…Arthur."

Francis took a few more steps closer, clearly testing the waters.

"Arthur, tell me. Why do  _you_  care?"

"Pardon?"

"I asked you the same questions you asked me: Why do _you_  care? Why did you save 'im?"

Arthur's green eyes widened just a tad, but he remained silent. Another voice spoke instead.

"Eyebrows! Are you okay?!"

Everyone turned to see an albino dismounting a horse with a smaller teen in tow.

"Gilbert?"

"My apprentice here, Toris, reported a fire in this direction."

"There was a dragon!" Francis reported. "It attacked us, but it flew off with a child before it decided to do away with us."

"There was a dragon here? And the dragon kidnapped someone? Who was kidnapped?"

"That's another phenomenon entirely," Arthur interjected. "There was a creature here that could change its age."

Gilbert scrunched up his nose. "Like in those freaky campfire stories I used to tell to Ludwig when he was little? A zombie-ghost-thing that changes its age?"

"Not exactly. Those creatures are typically associated with bad omens because they always seem to accompany tales of misfortune and death. They are often said to be spotted after a fire or around the site of a recent tragedy. Some say the reason they are able to change their age is because they are the ghosts of children who died in the tragedy and were not able to live out their full lifespan. So, as ghosts, they are able to change their age to whatever they want until they pass on. However, I touched this creature. It was not a ghost, and it was breathing –not a zombie."

"Wait. So what is it then?"

"Technically, it would be a species of Changeling. Shifters are creatures that have a humanoid form and an animal form that they can shift between. Changelings are creatures that remain in a humanoid form but have unhuman abilities. The Age-Changeling, as it were, would fall into the second category better."

"…So you're telling me that you not only saw a dragon and lived to tell the tale, but you also saw an Age-Changeling that has only been heard about in legend? And they're both not here anymore."

"Wait, Gilbert. Are you saying…you don't believe us?" Arthur said, his thick eyebrows narrowing.

The Diarch scratched the back of his head as he averted his gaze.

"How  _dare_  you!" Francis ran over and grabbed the man by his shirt's collar. "We are standing on the very ashes of not only flora but numerous Birds, Centaur –this young boy's very kin! I am separated from my Jeanne! And you tell me that you think we made it up!"

Gilbert did not struggle in the grasp of the Bird but rather leaned closer to him with piercing, ruby irises.

"All I can see right here in front of me is evidence of a fire and a scared little boy. Your testimonies are just unawesome  _words_. I don't even know who you are, and I met Arthur briefly through another friend just yesterday! You make it seem like I am not taking this seriously, but, as I am responsible for the lives of everyone in my town, I cannot afford to take you at your word so easily You  _need_ proof!"

"Je m'appelle Francis! And I know what is truth in my heart! I know the dragon is awake and my Jeanne is alive! I will find her and prove it to you if it is the last thing I do!"

With that, Francis turned and fled into the forest. Arthur blinked several times before dismissing it. It was no use to decipher the ravings of a madman.

"But Master Gilbert," the brunette teen spoke softly. "I heard the dragon in the woods too. You believe  _me_ , don't you?" Toris's words had an undertone of pleading.

"Toris, you stole my awesome horse and put yourself in great danger going out into the woods on your own. You will be under a strict curfew."

"But you didn't answer-"

"Toris!"

"Yes, sir," Toris said, his eyes downcast and shamed.

Gilbert looked around at all the frowns he was receiving and sighed heavily, dragging a pale hand down his face.

"Look, it's nothing personal, but, without evidence, I can't believe you. I hope you understand the situation I'm in. Now, we will escort you back to the town. Once we're there, you can stay for as long as you need."

Arthur was still spinning his mind to come up with some way to prove the dragon's existence to Gilbert, but, when Matthew trembled against him, his priorities were different. The lad needed somewhere to rest and digest everything he'd just seen. And that wouldn't be such a bad idea for Arthur either. So he thanked the Diarch quickly and returned his energies to helping the Calf.

"Matthew? We're returning to town. Can you walk by yourself or do you need my help?"

"Where's my Momma?"

A cold chill ripped its way up Arthur's spine. Matthew sniffled and looked up at Arthur with huge purple eyes.

"I heard what Mr. Francis said. …Where is she, Arthur?"

The Werecat opened his mouth but he just couldn't say the words. How was anyone supposed to explain to a child that his mother had been killed? But he didn't need to. The silence spoke everything for him, and the Calf broke down.

He sobbed into Arthur's shirt. The tears soaked through the fabric and chilled the Werecat to the bone. Arthur's heart  _ached_. He didn't sign up for this! His heart wasn't meant to take this much strain! It was surely ripping in two even as he held the Calf tighter, like that would somehow make everything better.

"Some of your Herd must have escaped! Francis did! We'll find them! They won't let one of their own be abandoned. Even if it isn't your Mum, they will make sure you are cared for. I promise I won't rest until I find them-"

"I don't want another mom."

Something shattered. It was probably the rest of Arthur's heart.

"B-but Matthew-"

"I don't want another mom."

What was Arthur supposed to do? There were no words he could say. There was nothing he could do. All he could do was stand here and hope that this child didn't melt in his arms.

Arthur was a stubborn grouch. His own family didn't want to spend time with him. In his cave, he had no problems to deal with. How was he even remotely supposed to know what to do in this situation? He was the least qualified creature in the whole universe to-

"I want to stay with you."

All of the air was sucked out of Arthur's lungs. He felt as if he were going to pass out as he had to mentally replay the Calf's words over and over to make sure he was really comprehending them. But all that did nothing as only a single word drifted out of his mouth.

"Why?"

"I don't want another mom," Matthew said, rubbing his moist eyes. "I want a dad."

The Calf backed out of Arthur's embrace and carefully held Alfred out to him to take. Arthur was more than overwhelmed as he realized this was the first time he had ever held the Bird. Alfred was Matthew's most treasured possession. This was the biggest honor the Centaur could bestow upon any creature.

The Bird's feathers were soft, and he really was warmer than what would have been normal. The Bird looked disoriented as he looked up and didn't see Matthew. They were the bluest eyes Arthur had ever seen, and they were glistening with tears because, if Matthew was sad, so was he. Arthur thought for a second that the Eaglet would start crying again, begging for his "big brother" when, instead, he just threw up. It was close, but, because of how he had been holding the Chick at arm-length, the trajectory of the vomit had missed the Werecat. Arthur looked back to find that the Eaglet was smiling and chirping in a pattern that seemed to sound suspiciously like laughter as he reached his arms out and grasped for him to be brought closer. Of course, Arthur obliged and awkwardly held the child how he had seen Matthew do constantly for the past five days.

The Eaglet snuggled into him, kneading the fabric of his shirt with his fingers. Arthur was struck by how tiny Alfred was. Was this really a whole creature? Where was the rest of it? Something wasn't computing in his brain as he knew that Chicks were this small, but, yet, the Eaglet seemed, well, so  _small_. Arthur was awed.

Matthew joined in, hugging Arthur and continuing to cry softly. Arthur wrapped his free arm around the Calf and completed the group hug. The Werecat was taught to hate touch. It was a weakness to be dependent upon someone and dangerous to let someone become close to you. Yet, here he was, not only being embraced, but embracing in return. Somehow, it felt good. It felt like he was completed.

"Are you coming?" Gilbert asked. He wished he didn't have to interrupt their moment, but he wanted to get everyone back before nightfall.

"Yes," Arthur replied. "We're coming."

* * *

"That is quite a story, Arthur. I've never heard of this age-changing creature you talked about, but I have never heard of a dragon acting like that before," said Antonio.

The Diarch and the Werecat were sitting in the same places they had when they had their discussion the previous day. Antonio sat on one couch while Arthur sat on the one opposite. Only, this time, Arthur was accompanied by a Centaur and an Eaglet, both of whom were sleeping –the day's demand of emotions draining them.

"It was strange. It didn't seem interested in us at all. Even with Francis shielding us from its sight, it should have smelled us. And never have I ever heard of dragons that left prey alive or dragons that kidnapped prey."

"It is rather incredible."

"…So you don't believe us either."

"Oh, the contrary." Antonio shook his head as he answered. "I do believe you, but I can see why Gilbert did what he did. He is a wise ruler. If we tell our citizens that the dragon has awoken, they will become fearful and panicked –regardless of the odds of it hunting fifteen miles away from the mountain. We can't afford to do that to the citizens if there is no solid evidence."

"I just don't understand why the dragon has awoken now. If there was some way to predict when it will awake, things like this could be avoided. Better yet, if someone could simply kill it and rid us of future tragedy altogether."

Arthur watched Alfred turn himself over in his sleep, adjusting his position in Arthur's arms as a huge yawn escaped his tiny mouth. The Werecat couldn't help but smile.

"So, I guess there was no choice for you to make after all. What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to go back to my cave and raise them, it would seem. We will get by somehow."

"We meant it when we said you can stay as long as you want. I'm sure Feli and Lovi would love to have more playmates in town that are around their age."

"That's very kind of you, but I –no, we should be heading home. Ludwig did a wonderful job with cleaning and wrapping Matthew's leg where I, uh, bit him. We'll just take it slow on the walk back tomorrow."

Antonio followed Arthur's gaze to the Calf that slumped against him, sleeping in discomfort to avoid being separated from Arthur.

"I still can't believe they want me to take care of them. Me of all creatures."

Antonio smiled and hopped off the couch.

"I should be heading to bed. I think Feli was more excited that you were coming over because that meant he had an excuse to sleep with Lovi so his room is available if you would like to take it."

"Thank you, Antonio. For everything."

"De nada, amigo. My door will always been open to you."

With that, the Diarch left the parlor. Arthur, however, was scared to move. He didn't want to wake up the two boys so he adjusted himself on the couch so Alfred was warm but wouldn't roll away during the night, and he was still relatively comfortable. Soon enough, he was just as asleep as his boys.

_My boys_ , Arthur thought to himself.

That was right. He was going to get use to that, but, somehow, he reasoned the label it would be the least difficult adjustment. Even though all their differences, he knew they would somehow become a family even if they were all just a bunch of creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theoretical Species Bio: Age-Changelings  
> Age-Changelings, while having no official name, are widely accepted as being pure legend and are featured frequently in the oldest lore passed down from generation to generation. However, occasional witnesses turn up, claiming that they have seen a human-looking creature that could change its apparent age at will. Many have tried to rationalize that the supposed witnesses really saw a regular Shifter of some sort in mid-transformation or a unique Changeling or they were just simply hallucinating. (Changelings as a species will be explained in more detail later.) All in all, these creatures are rare and mysterious if they even exist at all.


	10. 10 - Beginning of Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of the second part of the story. Time-jump 7 months.

Beginning of Part 2  
  
*7 months later*

* * *

 

A small figure crept in the cave, the darkness making up for the stealth he lacked normally. With the target being a Werecat, this had to be handled with extreme caution if his mission was to be successful. Slowly and surely, he pulled himself one limb in front of the other toward the sleeping cat. Only from his personal experience could he know that what looked like a sleeping human was actually only one of the two forms that creature could take–the reason for such carefully-placed steps.

His heart was racing as he got nearer, but he kept a claw-like grip on his excitement and adrenaline. He couldn't mess this up. With incredible self-control, he inched ever nearer. He was now close enough that he could hear his target breathing as he slept.

He decided this was close enough. Crouching down, he prepared to strike. Shifting his weight, he locked his eyes on to his goal. Nothing could distract him from this. Nothing.

He held his breath… and leaped!

The Werecat woke with a start, first to the unusual "battle cry" and second to the weight slamming into his stomach. With instincts only a well-lived Werecat could have at this early in the morning, he flipped over and pinned the attacker in an inescapable hold.

It was then that he was awake enough to see who dared enter his territory, his  _den_! Below him squirmed a fledgling Bird. One he knew all too well.

He released the poor, struggling creature and crossed his arms angrily, trying to ignore the pain he felt in his gut from being "attacked."

"How many times, Alfred?  _How many times_  must I tell you that you are  _not_ to pounce on me while I'm sleeping! Actually, any time for that matter! Either I'm going to get hurt or you're going to get hurt."

Jumping up, the Bird, instead of apologizing, put a finger in front of his lips, the hand signal for silence. Curious, Arthur watched as Alfred got down on his hands and knees and started to crawl toward his brother that was sleeping on his side of the cave –the next victim.

"Alfred, stop this. I won't prevent Matthew if he tries to-."

Alfred looked over his shoulder with his mischievous blue eyes and smiled. Now it was an even greater challenge. He moved across the cave floor in such a poor imitation of stalking that it made Arthur want to laugh out loud. (But he wouldn't do that because then he would just be encouraging the disobedient child. The only reason he allowed him to continue this was so he would learn his lesson the hard way.)

When the little Bird finally got close to Matthew, he leapt at him with a cry that Arthur assumed was supposed to be a vicious growl. After ramming his head into one of the Centaur calf's front legs, Matthew only stirred. However, the calf simply fluttered his eyelids shut again and went back to sleep. Alfred took great offence at this.

He jumped at him again, but Matthew, this time, took the…offensive? He reached down and grabbed the Bird, pulling him into a tight embrace as if to cuddle with a pillow or plush toy.

Alfred squirmed, but Matthew's grip was solid.

"Mattie! Let go!  _Not_  snuggle time! Mattie!"

Matthew, now clearly awake but still refusing to open his eyes, smirked and started tickling his little brother. The Bird began giggling and writhing, flapping his little wings desperately, but it was almost as effective as hitting someone with a fluffy blanket and just as intimidating.

The tickling ended when Alfred bit Matthew's hand. The little biter was dropped instantly and playfully scampered off to hide behind a rock in the back of the cave, snickering the whole way.

"Arthur! He  _bit_  me … _again_!"

Matthew quickly trotted over to show Arthur the evidence of the offence. Sure enough, there were two little half-moons of a red traced imprinted into the calf's hand. This was the third time Matthew had been bitten by the Bird. Every time it had been in good fun, but the little Bird was taking way too much enjoyment in his new, sharp teeth. Arthur was just relieved that he was done teething. Sighing, the Werecat went into displeased-parental-figure mode.

"Alfred. Come here."

There was no movement from behind the rock.

"Alfred. Don't make me start counting!"

Nothing.

"Fine! One…."

He didn't even have time to think of saying the second number before Alfred came barreling out of his hiding place. Arthur smiled victoriously at himself. He didn't know how he would punish Alfred if he didn't get back before he finished counting (or what number he would even stop counting at). He never had to because Alfred always cracked once he started saying numbers aloud. He was, for some reason, mortified of the dreaded countdown (er…count- _up_?).

The little Bird stopped in front of the Werecat and Calf, wringing his hands and shuffling his feet. The little stinker knew he was in trouble. He knew he did wrong. Why, then, did he bring this upon himself? Arthur sighed.

"Alfred, we do  _not_  bite our siblings. Do you understand me?"

"…Yes, Arfur." Alfred's blue eyes were studying the ground.

"Very good. Now what do you say to Matthew?"

"…Sorwy."

Alfred stopped fidgeting and walked over to the Calf. He reached up to grab for his brother's hand and pulled it down to his level so he could inspect the damage. He looked at it and creased his eyebrows as if he still didn't put the connection between his biting and injuries. After seeing it enough, he quickly kissed it and let go.

"I kissed it bettow. Mattie all bettow now!"

He beamed up at Matthew as if he just miraculously healed his brother _and_  solved all the world's problems to boot. It was like he now expected to be praised.

Matthew sometimes regretted telling Alfred that kisses had healing properties, but if Alfred thought that was the case it made him stop crying from the little scrapes or skinned knees he acquired way too often so much faster. He decided he wasn't angry enough to break the truth to him yet. Besides, it was pretty adorable…when it wasn't annoying.

"I'm hungrwy," Alfred declared, his attention span catching up to him.

"How can you be hungry? You just had dinner a few hours ago."

Arthur, frankly, had been exhausting himself. The Werecat only needed a big meal every week or two depending on the size of his kill. Although, he tended to need to eat more when he was stuck in his human form for more than a few days, but, before he decided to take the calf and chick in, he'd really not needed to hunt very often. Now was a different story.

The Bird just seemed to have a bottomless pit instead of a stomach. To feed this tiny Bird that only stood up to his knees, Arthur had to go hunting every few _days_. Granted, he didn't need huge prey every time because he didn't necessarily need to have any of it himself, but that was still a lot of energy. Not to mention that he had limited options of what to bring the gluttonous Bird.

He couldn't bring any form of Centaur back or Matthew would well-near have a panic attack. He secretly did catch a Centaur once because he was just dying for a big meal. (It was a horse-Centaur not a moose-Centaur, and Arthur ate it where he caught it instead of bringing it back to the den. Matthew would never have to know.)

He, also, couldn't bring other Birds. Sure, Birds, being as barbaric and cruel as they were, had a few carnivorous species that ate other Birds. He just couldn't with good conscience force Alfred to eat one of his own kind -it was against Arthur's principals. Besides, if Alfred was living under his roof, he would live by his rules. Cannibalism was certainly against the rules.

"I dunno. Can I rwide on Mattie's back?" Now his ADD was kicking in.

Matthew looked toward Arthur who looked about ready to keel over from fatigue, and he took pity on him. He could take Alfred away for a little bit so Arthur could get a few moments of undisturbed sleep. He would take one for the team. (Although, he might bring this selfless act up later when he wanted something.)

"You can come with me while I get some lunch, Alfie."

"Yay!" Alfred cheered, wings flapping a bit in excitement.

He reached upwards with itching eagerness as Matthew picked him up and placed him on his back.

"Don't fall off," Matthew warned.

Alfred was too enthralled with his new height perspective to really pay attention to him. Matthew just hoped it was common sense so he would try not to fall off anyway.

"Don't be gone long, Matthew. Come straight back."

"We will," the Calf promised as he exited the cave, blinded momentarily as the snow reflected the sunlight up into his face.

After his eyes adjusted, he stepped out into the cold outer world.

Alfred fluffed his wings out slightly so he could better wrap them around his back, and he wrapped his arms around his big brother –as much as he could anyway. Arthur tried his hardest to modify the clothes he got when he was little so they still kept him warm, but Alfred would rather snuggle.

He kept swiveling his head from side to side as he observed the world with huge eyes. It was so shiny with all the snow! Arthur said he couldn't go outside the cave and play in it, but one time he did anyway and found it was really cold. He got in big trouble after Arthur found him, but it was still fun.

His brother came to a stop when there was a tree that had that bark and leaves stuff he liked to eat off of it. Alfred got bored after the scenery was the same for so long so he slipped off his brother's back and landed in the soft powder on his bum.

Alfred giggled a little as he fisted the cold flakes in his hand and mashed them up, put them in piles, and even ate some of it. Matthew looked down and was about to scold his little brother, but he figured there was no harm when he was almost done anyway. He went back to tearing the bark of the trees.

Alfred was watching some of the snow fall that he threw when he spotted something in the distance. It was a tan lion thing. Arthur! He must have followed them.

Alfred pushed himself to his feet and stepped quietly toward Arthur, but he started to slowly back away. Oh! He wanted to play that pouncing game! Alfred really liked that game! He crouched down too and even growled because that was the most fun part of the game.

Matthew turned around at the noise he heard his little brother make to see him crawling around in the snow! It was okay if he played for a little while, but that was too much.

"Alfred? What are you doing? You shouldn't be getting the snow all over you like that."

Then he walked over to retrieve him when he noticed what Alfred was growling at. It was Arthur. Silly, over-protective Arthur following them here. But he thought Arthur would have frantically picked Alfred up and scolded Matthew for letting him play in the snow. The last time that happened, Matthew wasn't even involved and he got a sound lecture. That was strange. Why was he being so calm about it now? And he hates it when Alfred tries to pounce him…. Then Matthew realized it.

That wasn't Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birds age very quickly. That's why in only seven months, Alfred is about two-years old (if he were a human). Matthew hasn't aged that much because he is already a little mature for his age. He's actually a little taller and thicker now, but he is still a Calf. And, as for the setting, it's now about early November. The snow that has fallen is about the first snow of the year that hasn't melted immediately, and, because they live in a cave, it's warm enough for Alfred.


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's past comes to haunt (visit) him.

Dylan had a sort of chip on his shoulder. It wasn't a big chip, but it was still a chip. He didn't mind traveling. He didn't mind seeing his family members. And he was the one that minded the least of Arthur's cold attitude. All in all he wouldn't have minded being the messenger if his family had just told him the message then sent him on his way.

However, his family, of course, had been rather rude about it. They bossed him around and ordered him to go like he was their personal servant. If they had just _asked_  him to, he would not have this small but bitter chip on his shoulder.

Dylan went anyway because if he were to argue with his famously quarrelsome family, it would have to be about something of a little more import than their attitudes –else run the risk of overreacting like they do.

Arthur's territory was on the east side of his. When he crossed over the border, he was relieved to find that his paranoid brother hadn't renewed the scent boundary. In reality, Dylan was the least confrontational to Arthur. He promised that he would hold true to and respect the borders, but, for the longest time, he found Arthur had kept the boundary renewed regularly.

Honestly, he wished he were better friends with Arthur. Dylan, as laid back as he was, would just get a craving to talk to someone –just a friendly chat. However, no one would indulge him. Arthur should have been the one that made the most sense to talk to, but their older brothers had long since stepped on all of Arthur's internal social butterflies. It was a shame, but that was just the way it was so he moved on.

He knew his way to Arthur's den by heart even if a layer of snow covered the landscape. Granted Dylan did have an excellent memory, but he was the only one Arthur had actually let stay long enough in his territory to even show him where his den was. If he was entrusted to such rare and privileged knowledge, you could bet he was going to remember it.

As he entered deep into Arthur's territory, he heard voices. Instinct took over so he crouched down, letting his triangular ears flick up to listen. The voices sounded young. He crept closer for a better look.

To his surprise, he smelled Centaur when he got closer. However, he did not hear or smell a Herd. What was this stroke of luck he stumbled upon? He got closer. His paws shifted tenderly, and he kept his tail low but carefully away from any bush that might want to betray him.

He was sure now. It was a young Centaur. Grazing is what it sounded like. He could hear it tearing off of leaves from low branches and whatever else was still left on the trees. His stomach growled.

He knew one of the rules of traveling in other family members' territories was no hunting. Though, he was probably the only one who would follow that rule. Most of their family viewed it as a justified excuse to provoke fights between each other or to validate driving kin off their land. Still, as he searched his memory, he had never ever poached in another family member's territory before. However, he'd never ever found a Centaur calf alone in another family member's territory before either.

Maybe he could catch this Calf and then bring it back to Arthur to share? After all, it wouldn't be completely stealing if he were catching the prey for the one whose territory he was on, right? Besides, a kill this easy and in the _winter_ would be almost a crime to the Werecat world to pass up.

He neared, completely soundless, until he could see through the branches of a bush and look at his prey with his own green eyes. Sure enough, there it was, the Centaur Calf grazing away, bundles of shriveled foliage in his arms to take back to wherever his Herd was most likely.

His heart beat faster as he crouched. Still, he waited. He had to make  _sure_  the mother and the Herd wasn't around. If he attacked a Calf with its Herd even within earshot, he was in for a world of pain. He could spare a few seconds to make sure it truly was all clear.

Then, he noticed another scent. It was a Bird.  _Of course!_  Killing this Centaur Calf was too easy for the universe to let him just have it without difficulty. There had to be Birds around.

He snapped his head up to the trees. If it hadn't migrated yet, that meant it was likely a carnivorous bird that would attempt to scavenge from anything Dylan hunted. He couldn't even count how many times Birds had stolen nearly entire meals right out of his own jaws. Birds were  _not_  his favorite animals.

However, he didn't see any. Instead he was surprised to see when he lowered his head that, in front of him, was a young Bird -also, without its parents. He sniffed the air a few more times to double check, but that little Fledgling was the one and only source of the Bird scent.

Questions flooded Dylan's mind. Why was a Centaur calf without its Herd? Why was there a Bird Fledgling on the ground and out of its nest? Why were the two even in close proximity to each other?

His train of thought was interrupted when the Bird, previously sitting on the ground and playing with the snow, looked up to spot him through the bushes. Dylan's blood ran cold. Baby Birds could be  _loud_  if they wanted to, and he could very well alert his parents, wherever they were, that he was in danger. Birds would normally lean toward flight rather than fight, but he'd once heard of a Minotaur being ripped to shreds by a flock of Birds for no reason at all. He'd rather not become another legend like that.

He remained still. Hoping the Bird maybe just happened to look in his direction and really didn't see him. That was until the Bird wobbled to his feet and started to walk right toward him. His eyes widened as the Bird got closer. The Centaur calf didn't seem to notice as he continued ripping bark off of tree branches.

The Bird inched closer. Maybe Dylan could just settle for the little Fledgling, but the Calf would be much more meat –much more reasonable to bring back to share with his brother. He wished the Bird away, but he kept coming ever closer.

He began to back up but that only made the Bird that much eager to catch to him for reasons that were completely unknown to the Werecat. The Bird had caught up to him and he crouched down to mimic him. Dylan was very confused.

"Rawr!" the Bird said, as he smiled and looked at him with big, blue eyes.

Dylan had no idea how to respond.

"Alfred?" the Calf started to speak. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be getting the snow all over you like that."

Dylan decided he must have been dreaming. Was a Centaur calf talking to the fledgling? Was the Bird really playing with him, copying him rather humorously?

The Calf started to walk toward the Bird when he stopped, his eyes growing wide as the figure it could just make out past the brown bush. The roles of nature were reversed when the Calf suddenly charged forward, scooped up the Bird that was apparently named Alfred, and yelled.

"Leave him alone!"

Dylan found himself backing away, in pure shock and paralyzing confusion. The Calf stared him down, his heart beating hard and quick, as Dylan stared back at him. After an awkward moment, the Werecat shook his head. This madness needed to end. He leaned back on his heels and charged forward.

The Calf let out a warning cry that nigh well deafened the Werecat as he took the Calf to the ground, the Bird thrown from his arms upon impact. The Calf struggled and Dylan was forced to back off after only getting in a few swipes as he found four hooves and two hands swinging toward him with deadly force.

He began to quickly circle him so he could get his unguarded side when he was tackled to the ground. He knew from the scent immediately who it was so he let his body go limp and stopped struggling so his attacker would also stop his assault. The trick worked like a charm, as the other Werecat must have caught the scent of his littermate also.

"Dylan?"

Arthur backed away from him, now in his human form for some reason. Dylan figured he may as well follow suit and shifted as well. Arthur looked very much like Dylan except his hair was slightly more blond, but, body-structure and eye color considered, they looked almost identical.

Arthur suddenly turned around when he heard the wailing of the Bird Fledgling and the crying of the frightened and injured Calf, both on the ground with tears running rivers down their faces.

Arthur went to attend to the screeching Bird first. He picked him up and embraced him, hugging him to his chest. The Bird gripped him tightly and babbled weeping-warped nonsense words into his neck and shivered as Arthur shushed him and rocked him.

Then he went, Bird Chick still in his arms, to kneel beside the bleeding Centaur. He quickly looked him over as if to check the extent of the damage then said consolingly, "It will hurt, but none of wounds look deep. When we get back, I'll wrap them. You'll be fine, love."

The Calf held his bleeding middle and nodded with tear-blurred eyes.

Dylan observed all of this with his jaw on the ground.

"Arthur?"

"Shut up!" Arthur bellowed over the Chick's head, and Dylan shrunk back.

Why was his brother doing this? What happened since the last time he saw him? …When  _was_  the last time he saw him? In fact, that was the main reason he had been sent to deliver this stupid message to him.

Dylan slowly got to his feet, choosing to mimic his brother and stay in his less threatening form for the time being. Not even sure why, Dylan went up to the crying Calf and offered his hand to him to help him up, the but Calf kicked at him and tried to scoot away.

Arthur looked over to him and ran to stand in front of the Calf protectively.

"Get away from him!"

Dylan backed off again but became exasperated.

"What the heck is going on, Arthur?!" he shouted, desperate.

He pleaded mentally that Arthur would remember. He was  _Dylan_. The one that stood up for him. The one that didn't hurt him and never would. The only kin he could trust.

"It's…nothing you need concern yourself with."

While it was much more subdued, Arthur's warning was still there –to stay away.

"I can help you. Just tell me what I need to do, brother."

Arthur looked him over then looked toward the Calf that was still lying in pain.

"Help him to my den."

Dylan nodded and approached the Calf again, this time with extreme caution. He reached out his hand to which the Calf shrunk back at, casting his eyes toward Arthur for reassurance.

"I won't hurt you. I promise," Dylan said, with as much sincerity he could muster.

Arthur nodded to Calf, and Matthew reluctantly took the hand.

It required a little more than just that to get the calf to his feet. Dylan eventually had to get by his side and help push him up that way, the front left hoof being the one that was hurt and weak. The Calf leaned on him heavily and limped into the cave that Dylan's brother called his den.

Helping the Centaur down gently, Dylan was quickly instructed to tend to his wounds. Arthur knew that his littermate was well versed in the ways of healing, but Arthur's brother never thought he would be implementing those skills to help heal a  _Centaur_ whose wounds he even caused.

As he was applying homemade bandages, the Calf eyed him suspiciously.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Arthur's brother."

The Calf retained a level glare toward him.

"Thought so. You look like him. Do you have the same mom _and_  dad?"

"Well," Dylan smiled briefly, "we're littermates. That means we are technically twins, and Werecats, at least my species, are monogamous. They only have one mate and mate for life."

The Calf looked deep in thought.

"You're lucky you have a blood-brother."

He nodded, trying to pry himself out of the huge, purple eyes of the Calf. He felt like a gawking Cub because, honestly, never seen a Centaur Calf so close before. Well, one that was alive. He was morbidly curious. Dylan remained silent until he sensed his brother standing behind him.

"Excuse me, Dylan. Alfred wants to see him."

The new Werecat moved out of the way, sure to give him as much space as he needed.

Arthur sat the kid down who was still hesitant in letting go of Arthur but eventually did so as he slowly walked toward the Centaur. He bent over and kissed the bleeding wounds, making sure to get each one, before snuggling up to his torso. Matthew smiled and wrapped his arms around the Bird.

"Thank you, Alfred. I feel much better now."

Alfred let out a happy chirp and nuzzled into the warmth of the Calf, his shivering reducing in severity.

Dylan felt a tap on his shoulder as he saw Arthur turning away, summoning him back farther into the cave. Finally, he could get the answers he wanted.

"So," Dylan began, once they were far enough out of earshot, "…I don't even know what to ask. Just explain to me what I'm supposed to understand from all of _…that_."

Arthur looked tired and ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess I sort of…adopted them."

"A  _Centaur_  and a  _Bird_? You 'adopted'  _prey_?"

"It's a long story."

"I'm listening."

He sighed before continuing. "Both were orphaned. I found them, and they followed me after I had… issues turning."

"You're still having trouble with that?"

"Just, sometimes…it's always been harder for me, okay?! It's not as bad as when we were Cubs."

"I don't see how it could have possibly been any worse."

"Shut up," Arthur huffed. "So because they were so intent on staying, I decided that I would keep them until winter. Then I would eat them when prey got scarce."

Dylan looked back toward the two and said, "I see that plan worked out well."

"I don't know, Dylan. I guess I wasn't thinking straight. I thought it was a good idea at the time."

"So, you got attached to them so now you're raising them like you're their  _father_?"

"That just about sums it up."

"Arthur," Dylan pleaded, "if you wanted to have kids, go find a mate and make your own! This is  _not_ the way to go about it!"

"Well, too late. They need me."

Dylan ran a hand through his hair. "I honestly, truly do not understand you at all, brother. Do you even  _know_  what the rest of the family would do it they found out about this?"

Arthur turned away with a dark look as Dylan continued.

"Alistair would rip them apart just because he could!"

* * *

" _Alistair? Why are you crying?"_

" _I'm not crying, you runt. Get away from me!"_

_Arthur found himself being shoved harshly and his rump colliding roughly against the floor of their family's den. He began to cry, shifting into his human form upon impact._

_Dylan came immediately upon hearing his littermate's distress. He approached wary of their older brother's temper. Arthur latched on to his twin instantly, burying his face in his fur as Dylan leaned against him and purred softly._

_Truth be told, he wasn't the odd one out when it came to being a huggy/touchy person like they tried to say. It was just the rest of his family refused to be vulnerable enough to act upon it. They saw hugging and comforting touch as a sign of weakness. Thus why Arthur was pushed away for trying to comfort Alistair. Maybe that's why they picked on Arthur so much –who desperately clung to Dylan or their mother whenever he was upset. They were the only two who would allow such intimacy._

" _He's crying because he knows it was his fault!" The accusation came from their fourth brother, his dark pelt matching the look in his eyes._

" _No, it wasn't!" Alistair jumped to a fighting stance, his tail swished angrily and his teeth were bared._

_Conor unsheathed his claws but continued to sit and glare –like an unmoving island._

" _Guys, s-stop arguing," Dylan squeaked. "It was no one's fault."_

_Conor snorted. "Yeah, Dylan. It was_ no one's _fault that Mum nearly got trampled to death in a Centaur stampede!"_

" _Shut_ up _!"_

" _You're the one that needs to learn to shut up!" Conor snapped, jumping up to his feet and flattening his ears. "If you just could have kept your mouth closed, you wouldn't have scared them into stampeding in the first place!"_

_With a strangled cry Alistair flung himself at his littermate, tackling him down roughly. The two Cubs rumbled fiercely, clawing and biting with no reserve. Dylan made sure to keep himself and Arthur back far enough to not catch any stray hits._

" _Boys!"_

_It was as if the voice had stopped time. No one moved a muscle as they watched the figures approach. They could tell from the scent they were not Werecats like them, but they were still some kind of Shifters._

_The one who looked down on them was in his human form, built thick with broad shoulders that were rigid even as he walked toward them, and his brown eyes froze the cubs where they lay. Now that he was closer, the scent was stronger. Aside from his own scent, the creature smelled of humans and others of his own kind. There was only one explanation. He was a Werewolf._

_Alistair jumped in front of Dylan and Arthur, his fight with his twin forgotten, as he bared his fangs and arched his back. The small twin Cubs cowered behind their older brother who was only a Cub himself and pleaded with their big, green eyes that the Werewolf not kill them._

_The intruder's face lightened as if reminded of someone before he spoke again._

" _We mended your mother's wounds as well as we could at the town. If you come with me, I will take you to her."_

_Immediately it became clear exactly with whom they were standing. The power he wielded radiated off him in invisible waves. They were standing in the shadow of possibly the strongest creature in the forest –the Werewolf Alpha, Romulus._

* * *

"Well, the family is not going to find out," Arthur commanded. "And if you tell them, so help me, brother or not I will rip your throat out!"

Dylan frowned. "I won't tell them but that won't stop them from coming to you if you don't start attending family gatherings again."

Arthur groaned.

"It's true, Arthur. That's why I'm here. That's why they sent me in the first place. You haven't gone to a gathering in _years_."

Arthur snorted. "I find it hard to believe that they missed me."

"Well, they don't, honestly. They're just upset that _they_  have to go to the gatherings while you, apparently, think you're so special that you don't have to."

"Well, maybe I just don't want to be insulted and yelled at by my own kin?"

"Maybe it would be best if you kept up appearances so they won't send someone who isn't as nice as I am to come looking for you and discover two, very interesting and very vulnerable secrets."

Arthur glared at him. "Fine. I'll start coming again, but you better keep your word."

"Arthur, you know I will. When have I ever done you wrong?"

"When you started hunting on my territory!"

Dylan scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. "Okay, that was a one-time thing. I was actually going to share with you if that makes any difference."

"It doesn't."

"Okay then," he threw his arms up in surrender. "I'll be going."

Dylan started for the cave exit, frustrated and confused, but Arthur caught him on the shoulder.

"Why don't you stay -just for a little while? Meet them and you'll understand."

Dylan's green eyes brightened, and he smiled. "You mean it?"

Arthur's eyes dodged around, avoiding contact with the twin's identical green. "…I  _have_  missed you."

Dylan about passed out. He knew how hard it was for his brother to admit such a heartfelt statement. He crushed his twin into a hug, purring happily. He'd always been more openly expressive than his littermate, but he just couldn't help himself. Arthur chuckled and shoved him away playfully, returning to his "Cubs" to give everyone a proper introduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alistair - Scotland  
> Conor - Republic of Ireland  
> Dylan - Wales  
> Patrick - Northern Ireland


	12. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more flashbacks with the UK bros and Arthur defends his decision to Dylan.

_As the Alpha looked down at the four Werecat Cubs, all of the brothers -even Conor- found themselves looking to Alistair for the go-ahead. He nodded and cued his kin to shift into their human forms as they prepared to follow the Werewolf through the forest and into the human village. It just made the humans uneasy if they were in their first forms while in town._

_Alistair had brick-red hair, the same color as his pelt, and stood only a few inches taller than Conor who had deep black hair matching a midnight pelt. Alistair and Conor were their mother's first litter and twins by definition. Dylan and Arthur were the second litter, but they were identical twins. They shared the same hue of the famous, green Kirkland eyes as well as the sandy blond hair. Only their personalities made them any different at all._

_The four boys stuck together as the entered the town and tried to avoid eye contact with any of the inhabitants. They had been brought here a few times by their parents when they needed supplies they couldn't make for themselves, but it wasn't a setting they felt comfortable in yet. The forest was home. This place was not._

_It wasn't like the town was unfriendly to members of other species. It was just that it was painfully obvious the citizens were wary of any outsiders. The humans were the ones that seemed to give them the hardest stares. Even though they lacked the advanced sense of smell to identify them by their species, they did not recognize their faces. The werewolves were more willing to let the anomalies go even though their sense of smell was much more acute only because they had a sort of Shifter kinship. It was this "kinship" that the Werecats had been exploiting when their father brought their mother to the town for medical assistance. They would have played any card if it would have helped their mother._

_Suddenly, a small brunette kid ran up to them out of nowhere and hugged Arthur. The little troupe stopped and stared at him as Arthur was smothered in between the other child's arms. Alistair intervened, prying the two apart, and the other child looked at him with shock. His eyes were a green -a shade deeper than the Kirkland green- but the fact they sparkled with a joy for life made a bigger contrast than the hue._

_"I saw you and I knew your_ madre _must be that nice lady that Gilbert's_ padre _is helping. I just thought you looked sad so I wanted to tell you that you shouldn't worry. Diarch Beilschmidt is the best doctor ever so you don't have to worry! She will be fine!"_

_The Cubs stared at him –the concept of showing that sort of care for a stranger was completely foreign to them._

_"Antonio, can you show our guests to their mother? I am going to check on my sons. As future Alpha, I'm sure you can do it."_

_"Of course, Alpha Romulus!"_

_The Alpha nodded, a pride showing in his eyes, before leaving the group._

_"Follow me!" Antonio announced, taking Arthur's hand and leading the Kirkland children down the road._

_Arthur was glad for this strange Werewolf child because he didn't seem to mind how hard he squeezed his hand in anticipation of seeing his mother nor did he seem to mind the glances people shot toward him for being with a group of outsiders._

_He led the Cubs to into a building that clearly smelled of blood and medicine even in their weaker and less sensitive forms. Still, this was where their mother was so it was where they would go._

_"Mummy!"_

_Arthur couldn't keep his composure any longer. He ripped his hand from Antonio's as he barreled into a back room. Alistair tried to stop him, but the little Cub was too fast. The rest of the children entered the room with more composure._

_Upon arriving, they saw their mother lying on a bed of white sheets. She was bandaged so heavily and so tightly. It was as if the doctor was afraid she would fall apart. Arthur was already clinging to his mother, overjoyed past the point of words – only making happy-sounding noises and purrs._

_She looked pale, Alistair observed, just as he observed every other evidence of injury with guilt. But what Alistair chose to ignore was her relieved smile as she stroked her youngest son's blond hair and told him over and over how she was so happy to see them._

_"Oh! Antonio is here too! Boys, have you met him? He kept me company while I was resting here. I think you would be good friends with you."_

_Antonio smiled wider if possible, but the doctor's hand on his shoulder kept him joining the Cubs. Dylan stood behind Arthur, patiently waiting for his turn to be doted on while Conor and Alistair hung in the back._

_There was a movement beside them and they were startled by how still their father must have been to not be noticed until now. His face was grave and hard-set. Alistair visibly shrunk down. He would have done anything to avoid that man's gaze, but the man never looked to his son. He never once took his eyes off his mate._

_The serious-looking doctor, satisfied that the children had enough time to see that their mother was fine, stepped forward and addressed the Cubs' father._

_"The bleeding has stopped, and she is able to ingest and hold food again. With care and extreme gentleness she can return to your home. However, it would not inconvenience me if she remained here for a few more days."_

_"No. She will come with us."_

_Alistair's father finally spoke. Alistair's mother caught her husband's eye with a worried expression. Her eyebrows were furrowed with a knowing look that was lost on the children –a communication only decipherable by years of marriage._

_Dylan quickly pulled Arthur back as their father approached knowing it wouldn't end well for anyone to be standing in the way of their father and mother at this moment. Arthur reluctantly allowed Dylan to guide him away, but he comforted himself in the fact he could still_ see _his mother at least._

_Their father tenderly helped slide her off of the bed so she could stand on her own feet. However, he allowed her to grip onto his arm for balance and summoned Conor over to balance her on the other side. Carefully the two guided the wounded Werecat outside the doctor's office and out to the street._

_Alistair made sure to open all the doors for them and clear the way, but he dared not look his mother nor his father in the eye. He was too ashamed to meet their gazes after what he had done._

* * *

It was an enormous surprise and relief to Dylan that his brother hadn't been spending all this time by himself. He was actually doing the most oddly responsible thing Dylan could think of –raising children (using the most open definition of "children" that he could think of).

He had to admit, they were kinda cute in a weird way. After all, he never really stopped to consider the "cute-ness" of the prey he was about to eat so he hadn't any sort of frame of reference for the "cute-ness" of a toddling Bird or a Centaur Calf. But, if he there were cute ones, he would take a shot in the dark and say that these were it.

Still, he was concerned for Arthur and the practicality of raising the…kids. There were so many things that could go wrong, and Dylan knew it would absolutely destroy his brother if any of them happened. This project was doing wonders for him while everything was going smoothly. Come on! He actually admitted he missed him! But, every day held risk, and Arthur was probably too blinded by affection for the children that ran at his feet to think rationally about it.

Don't get him wrong, Dylan wasn't opposed to Arthur raising the kids. He really wasn't. He just cared deeply for his twin. He didn't want to see him hurt by this. So he decided that he would just ask Arthur a few questions. If he had the right answers, Dylan would be more at peace. But, if he didn't, he would try his hardest to explain to Arthur that maybe he should seek someone else to raise them. After all, it was his job to ask the hard questions.

"So, when I first saw them, the little Bird-"

"Alfred," Arthur corrected.

"Yes.  _Alfred_." Dylan humored him. "When I first saw Alfred, he mimicked me and even started to growl at me."

"…He's going through a phase."

"Are you sure? Does he even try to use his wings?"

"He's too small to fly. You know that."

"But he should be practicing, getting them stronger?"

"I don't know. I assumed instinct would handle that. When the time is right, he'll try flying."

"Does the "phase" he's going through allow for it?"

"…Whatever you are insinuating, just say it, Dylan."

"Arthur, does he even think he's a Bird?"

Arthur crossed his arms indignantly.

"Of  _course_  he does! Why would you ask a stupid question? What? Do you think he thinks he's a  _Werecat_? I don't have wings, and he can't shift. I don't understand how he could be confused in that regard."

"I'm just worried that since he doesn't have any Bird influences…he might not turn out…right." Dylan said his words slowly and with timidity, knowing full-well it was not wise to insult a mother on her parenting skills.

Arthur bristled.

"Alfred! Come here!"

"No~!" The little lad scampered behind Matthew as if to get a head start for the game of tag he knew his disobedience would start, giggling mischievously the whole time.

"Alf-! Ugh. Matthew! Get that little brat over here!"

Matthew sighed and turned around to get his brother. Alfred tried to wiggle out of his brother's reach by dodging around under his legs, but the Calf, after shuffling, used that strategy against him –trapping him between his front legs. After that, the Bird was easy pickings.

Arthur tried not to watch as Matthew walked over to the two Werecats, wrestling with the energetic toddler the whole way.

"Here, Arthur."

Matthew presented the squirming Bird, holding him by his ankles upside-down. The Bird swung himself from side to side, his shirt slipping down to reveal his pudgy, bellybutton-less tummy.

"Thank you, lad."

Arthur took the child, attempted to right him, but Alfred struggled -apparently loving the feeling of blood rushing to his head. Arthur  _so_  did not have time for this. Trying to remain cross, he raised the lad up so that he at least dangled at eye level.

"Alfred," he began, but stopped when the Bird started swinging back and forth and booping Arthur on the nose every time he got close enough.

"Alfred, stop! I have to ask you a question!" the Werecat sputtered, trying to keep Alfred from ignoring the seriousness of the topic.

"Uh huh." He cocked his head to the side, his too blue eyes sparkling with mirth and mischief, and he poked his caretaker's nose once more.

"Do you know what you are?"

"Yessss~" Alfred said as he made a grab at Arthur's large eyebrows.

The Werecat shook his head and craned his neck away, commanding Alfred to stop and be serious. He flipped the lad right-side up with much effort and held him out at arm's length.

"Alfred, what do you think you are?"

The lad appeared to think and even scrunched up his face. A moment passed, and Arthur wondered if the lad had already forgotten the question before he burst forth with his answer.

"A hero!" He declared, smiling and slashing out with his hands, fingers curled like they were claws. "I stop the bad guys and save the day!"

"No, you're not. This isn't a bedtime story. You're a  _Bird_ , Alfred," Matthew offered, annoyed with his brother's response.

"M-matthew! I wasn't asking you!" Arthur huffed.

The Calf obviously couldn't understand what Arthur's purpose was in asking Alfred the question, but Matthew was beginning to get into his rebellious pre-teen years. Timid and sweet as the Centaur was, his mood would swing without warning like any hormonal kid. Essentially, Arthur was raising a moody pre-teen and a child in his terrible twos. Alone.  _At the same time_. It was a wonder he didn't have grey fur by now.

The "hero" writhed in Arthur's arms.

"No-o! I'm the hero! I'm the hero! Mattie's stupid! I'm the hero!" he screeched.

"I'm not stupid! You're the one who doesn't know anything!"

"That's it! Matthew, go over there and actually eat something! You are getting cranky."

The boy opened his mouth to protest but shut it on his own –hopefully retreating back into his more docile, quieter self.

"Alfred! You're in time out!"

He deposited the writhing boy down on the opposite side of the cave as his Centaur brother, which caused the Eaglet to immediately cross his arms and pout his lips -grunting and kicking his feet angrily against the floor.

"And Dylan, you're wrong!"

Arthur walked up to his littermate and grabbed his wrist to lead him to just outside the cave entrance who, up into this moment had been watching with a partly horrified, partly justified look as the scene blew up around him.

Dylan watched as his brother's red cheeks paled out again and his rough breathing calmed to a normal rhythm. Identical pairs of green eyes met. One set was hard then softened under the familial understanding in the other.

"He will be fine." His voice cracked. He cleared his voice to try again. "He will turn out completely fine. He's going to be a fine, young Bird. He will receive a thorough education of the forest and how to hunt. Matthew is another positive influence in his life too.  _Normally_ they're wonderful playmates. They're good for each other. What more could he ask for?"

Dylan remained quiet as Arthur pulled at his blond mop of hair, willing away the emotion that was making his eyes well up. Dylan brought a hand to rest on his littermate's shoulder, but it was brushed off in a manner that was so Alistair-like it was frustrating. Dylan took a deep breath.

"Arthur, why are you doing this?"

"Hey, Alfie! Look how big this bug is!"

Arthur gratefully turned away from his brother.

"D-don't do that, lads!"

He took a step toward the inside of the cave but hesitated a second to give his brother one last glance. He opened and closed his mouth as he tried to summon up the right words and settled for, "I'm obviously not doing it for my own sanity."

Then he went inside.

Dylan remained. He wrapped his arms around akimbo and sighed to himself for what seemed the thousandth time. A small smile pushed on his lips. His brother was finally allowing himself to _feel_  something other than anger and bitterness. While he wasn't sure if it would work out in the end, he was glad his brother, even though he wouldn't admit it to himself, was happy for once. That was all he ever wanted for his twin. He then went to join his littermate in the cave.


	13. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another flashback, and they return to Town.

_When they returned to the den, they laid their mother down on the soft pile of feathers they had gathered. Their father went immediately to hunt prey to bring to his healing wife -not trusting humans or werewolves in their ability to provide for her properly._

_The youngest twins were curled up near their mum and fell asleep, tangled within each other's limbs. Dylan returned to his Cat form like Conor, Alistair, and their father had while Arthur remained in his human form. The young Cubs were exhausted from walking to kingdom come and back, not to mention the emotionally expensive couple days it had been. They had their mother back so sleep came to them easily unlike how it had abandoned them for the past week._

_Conor sat by himself at the far corner of the Den giving himself a bath to calm down, but Alistair stood by the entrance to the Den. He would guard while his father was away. He had to make up for his mistake somehow._

_"Alistair, come here."_

_He flinched but obeyed without question, eyes downcast in shame._

_"I didn't mean 'just stand a little closer.' I meant_ come _."_

_The Cub walked forward and collapsed to the ground, letting his head rest on his paws. He was still avoiding her gaze, but he was by her side now._

_"You were very brave, you were."_

_"N-no, Mum. I wasn't. I got you hurt." His voice cracked at least twice._

_"Shh. Nonsense. You learned your lesson about being silent while hunting. I'm sure I'll never have to remind you about that again, but I was talking about when the stampede started. Do you even remember what you did?"_

_He sniffled and shook his head. He wanted to forget every second of it. She then took his head in both her trembling hands so he was forced to look into her eyes._

_"What you did when you saw that Herd coming for us was you dove right in front of Conor. You were no match for them, but you were willing to risk yourself to protect your brother."_

_She was smiling at him. Her eyes were a dark blue that none of her children inherited. Their father's Kirkland green dominated in his offspring as it had for generations, but she was the one who had the red hair Alistair inherited. Alistair never knew why he was the only one that received those genes. Conor got their dad's dark hair while the twins were some sort of fluke with their blond, but Alistair got the ginger hair of his mother. And he felt utterly unworthy to share any sort of similarity with her._

_The Cub shook his head out of her hands._

_"But I couldn't protect_ you _."_

_"_ My  _job is to protect you, and your job is to protect your brothers. You did your job, and I did mine." Her blue eyes flicked back and forth, searching for something. "That's all anyone can ask anyone."_

_Alistair sniffled and shrunk back. His mother reached for him again._

_"Alistair."_

_He shook his head and turned around. How could she forgive him that easily? She wasn't even going to punish him! He deserved it! It was like she was trying to reward him for getting her hurt!_

_"Alistair!"_

_When her son scampered off into the forest, she leaned to sit up but was struck with a bolt of pain as she stretched a wound and the stitches pulled at her. She hissed and lay back down. However, the two small Cubs beside her had woken to her calling their brother's name._

_"Mummy? Are you alright?" Dylan asked. His triangular ears flattened as she held her side._

_"Fine, dear," she managed to gasp out._

_"I'll find him for you, Mum!" Arthur said happily, bounding in the direction the ginger-pelted Werecat went._

_"Arthur!" She cried, but Dylan steadied her._

_"I'll go with him."_

_With her mind more at ease, she allowed herself to lie back down fully, but her worry did not cease._

_Moments later, in the forest, Arthur found all his attempts at comforting his older brother shut down –some more roughly than others._

_"Deal with your own problems! Get away from me!"_

_Arthur fell harshly from the elder brother's shove, eyes welling up._

_"Quit trying to hug me and stuff! You're so pathetic!"_

_Dylan skirted the shadows and slowly approached, not wanting to draw any of Alistair's displaced anger upon himself as well. Carefully he reached down, shifting to his second form, and pulled Arthur away from Alistair's glare. Sniffling and bleary-eyed, Arthur wriggled himself out of his littermate's grasp and ran back to the Den by himself._

* * *

That's how it started. Arthur found that if he kept away from Alistair and didn't show him sympathy that he wouldn't be pushed. However, that meant that the two could never reconcile about anything. Their relationship became sour pile of grudges and it only worsened as they got older. They constantly argued and fought –Alistair to vent out his frustration on someone, and Arthur to try to perfect his insults and jabs.

Dylan was pushed aside as time went on. He never got caught up in any of the arguments and never understood the angst that filled his brothers' hearts. Even after Patrick was born, he seemed to sense that something was odd about Dylan and take after his other siblings, developing his own version of their tendency toward strife. Although  _Dylan_  never shut anyone out, they shut him out by poisoning the atmosphere with their negativity. Occasionally, he could get Arthur to open up to him, and those were the days Dylan lived for.

When it came time for the "Cubs" to move out, they each went their own separate ways as was expected. Well, all except for Patrick who stayed at the Den to take care of their aging parents. However, they agreed that all of the Kirkland siblings would meet back at their birth Den once a year to meet and catch up.

Arthur stopped coming, which actually did make the meetings tamer. After all, Alistair only had Conor to argue with since he never seemed to register Patrick in his mind as anything but his too-little brother. This left Patrick to stand on the sidelines and see how far he could spur the two on. Dylan, however, was secluded. They tended to ignore him because he was so... _not_  like them. Somehow the quarreling gene missed him. And he missed his littermate.

* * *

The memories, both good and bad, were rolling around in Dylan's mind that night but nothing of the past could bring him down from the high he was currently on. His brother was back, and his brother was happy. From the way blissful tears began to well up in his eyes, he realized how lonely he had been lately—how much he missed his family. It was like, every time Dylan went back to his own Den, it wasn't the same as coming home. It was just a space he slept.

_Here_ was a home. He could feel it in the air. Within these rock walls was where a family lived. Matthew leaning against the wall in contended slumber and Arthur nearby with Alfred buried in his arms. This was Arthur's family. Something he had constructed out of scraps and transformed into something beautiful—a collage. Dylan felt privileged to witness it.

Yet, at the same time, he was jealous. Although it was a little terrible, Dylan took a slight bit of comfort in knowing that all of his brothers were still bachelors like him. Yes, Alistair, Conor, and Patrick were still single, but Arthur was his twin –the one with whom he was destined to be compared for the rest of his life. Without meaning to, he started to feel behind, like time was running out.

He sighed and wiped the moisture away from under his eyes. He needed to look at it from a different perspective. If Arthur, as hardened and as guarded as he was, could come by a family of his own, so could Dylan. A new determination and hope piled on top of all the fuzzy feelings he already had built up from the day, and those thoughts nestled into his heart and rocked him into a gentle sleep.

The gentle sleep ended the next morning when he was rocked awake by a tiny Bird pouncing his stomach. Dylan had to admit that he was a tad concerned that Arthur had apparently given a reprimand to Alfred for this before, but he chose to try to forget the feeling. It was time he left. He got a groggy farewell from Matthew and Alfred had to be forcibly removed from his ankle. Finally, he had only his littermate left.

"Thank you. For letting me meet your family."

"Thank you for coming. I know you hate being their errand-boy."

Dylan chuckled and gripped his twin in a huge hug.

"I promise I won't tell a soul about them."

"And I promise I'll come to the family gathering. I know someone in the town who I'm sure will watch Matthew and Alfred while I'm gone. I'll take them there tomorrow and head to the gathering immediately following."

"That will be cutting it a little close, but I'll cover for you as best I can."

They broke the hug and Dylan smiled as he turned to leave –shifting with the ease that Arthur could never manage.

"I will see you then, brother."

Then he headed off to deliver the good news to the rest of the family: Arthur was coming home.

* * *

"Can we go home now?"

Alfred had long grown disenchanted with how his breath made poofs of vapor in the cold, afternoon air and plastered himself to his big brother's back, shivering. Arthur observed this with grief, but there was nothing he could do but step up the pace.

"Not just yet. We're going into town, remember? You're going to stay with my friend Antonio in town while I'm gone. He has two boys with whom you can play. It will be very warm in his house."

"I don't want you to leave. I want to go home."

"Alfred, I explained this. I have to go."

Alfred's face screwed up as the statement didn't comprehend in his head.

"But I don't  _want_ you to."

"I will be back before you know it. I promise."

The Eaglet made a whining noise and ruffled his feathers again –too tired to throw a full fit. Instead he settle for frowning and puffing out his blue lips.

Matthew hated how Alfred was shivering. He was older than last time they'd had a scare with him and the cold and as such he was more capable of keeping his body warm by himself, but it was winter now and those rags Arthur patched together for him weren't much shelter from the chill. Soon they would get to the town, and he would be warm again. In fact, there was the town now.

Sure enough, the forest parted to reveal the strange wooden structures the humans and Werewolves lived in behind the still-unfinished wall.

"There are a lot more people here now," Matthew observed as they entered.

It was true. There were many people out on the streets despite the temperature dropping with the evening sun. Several of them huddled around bonfires built in the middle of the road, and there was something odd about their silhouettes –something bulking off their backs.

"They're-"

"Je ne peux pas le croire!"

They turned to see a figure abandon his position near a bonfire and run toward them. Arthur thought he knew who he was, but his theory was proven correct when the person was dragging behind him a train of tail of distinct, colorful feathers. Francis was motioning toward them in the fading light to move, swooping with his arms frantically to the left.

"Get off the road!"

"Pardon?"

Nearly slamming into them, Francis, a panicked look in his eyes, started shoving the group toward the edge of the road.

"Hurry! Get in the shop!"

Before Arthur could protest again, all three of them were quickly ushered inside. The sound of the bell above the door summoned another familiar face.

"Omigosh! Like, it's totally after hours! Why is anyone –oh! You're back!"

"Hi, Feliks!" Matthew said cheerfully.

"I'm, like, so glad to see you! And a hello to you as well, Francis. Oh! Wait! I totally have stuff for Alfred and Matthew and your Werecat! Like, don't move!"

Arthur wasn't so sure how he felt about being addressed simply as "Alfred and Matthew's Werecat", but the blond tailor disappeared into the back of the store before he could comment on it. Shrugging it off as best he could, he turned to address Francis about why there was a dire need to go see Feliks, but Francis lobbed his own question first.

"So what are you doing here? Now of all times?"

"I was hoping that Alfred and Matthew could stay with Antonio for a little while. I have …family business I can't avoid."

"You cannot leave them here! Not with the Birds!"

"I was wondering if those were Birds by the fires, but what do they have to do with Alfred and Matthew staying in Antonio's house?"

"It is dangerous! They will eat them!"

Arthur scoffed. The town was crawling with Werewolves, and Arthur was living proof that Birds were scared of anything with huge claws. Well, all except a certain Eaglet. There's no way they could do anything to them while they were in the  _Diarch's_ protection.

"The Diarchs would never allow it! If the Birds came to live here, the Birds would have to follow the laws of the town."

"You do not understand. They did not come here because they felt like living in an urban atmosphere." Francis's eyebrows bent with intense concern as he prepared his explanation. "Last time when you were here and the dragon burnt those acres upon acres of trees down, the Birds that survived lost their homes. Some of them, including me, came to the Diarchs and pleaded we be allowed refuge until we could rebuild our nests and reconnect with our flocks. Who were they to say no? The refugees who originally came respected the town even though many of us were …mourning. There were a few squalls, but overall it was fine. Then came the cold. The Birds who survive off insects, plants, and fruits migrated, but the ones who were carnivorous stayed. Those Birds realized that the omnivorous humans and also-carnivorous Werewolves needed were always bringing back meat regardless if they hunted too."

Francis made fists in his hands as he paused to catch his breath for a moment before continuing.

"They are freeloaders- all of them! They steal meat, they steal firewood, they steal clothes right off the shelves of Feliks's store. He was happy the Birds were using his newly-designed clothing though even though, now, he hardly has enough money to run his business anymore!"

"Why don't the Diarchs make them leave?" Arthur asked.

"They tried! They resolved that any Bird who stole was no longer welcomed to the town. However, the Birds just come back. They have wings and no one can stop them."

Feliks came through the door again, his arms swamped with reams of clothes, and thankfully diffused the atmosphere. He sat them in three piles on the counter and addressed the pile on the left first.

"Here are the clothes for Alfred I promised! He's a little bigger since last time he was here, but, I think these will fit him, like, perfectly! See, look! Reinforced holes in the back for wings!"

"But we can't pay for these, Feliks. Remember? I paid you with a ribbon last time," Matthew explained.

"I know! And I said I knew exactly what to do with it! It's sewed on to the collar of his new sweater there! I knew it would look totally awesome on him! And these other clothes are for you and your Werecat guardian! Take them free of charge! I can't have you being cold too!"

"Feliks, you can't just _give_  us these clothes. Francis says your business-"

"If you leave this store cold when I know I could have helped you, I shall never sleep at night! And besides, if you come to this store and do not leave more fabulous than when you came in, I will have failed as a tailor!"

Arthur had another one of his I-must-be-the-only-sane-person-in-the-world moments, but thanked Feliks anyway. Matthew looked so happy he might have fallen over. He positively beamed despite having to practically wrangle Alfred into the new clothes.

"Soooft!" Alfred declared, rubbing his face on the cozy fabrics.

"Yes, they are, Alfred. Now let go of them so I can help you into them."

"No! Snuggle!"

"Alfred!"

As Matthew struggled with his little brother, Arthur turned back to Francis.

"So it would not be safe to leave them here."

"Not even the Diarchs would be able to protect them all the time."

Arthur let out a long sigh as he ran a hand down his face.

"But you don't understand. I can't bring them with me! This isn't just something I can skip out on. My family went out of their way to personally invite me this year. Something is different about this family gathering. I can't simply not show up. …But there is no one to watch them now. Someone needs to hunt for Alfred and protect Matthew. I can't leave them at the Den. I just…." Arthur massaged his temples with his hands as he wracked his brain for anyone he knew,  _anyone_. Sometimes he regretted that Werecats were such solitary creatures.

"I know some girls who would watch them!"

Arthur looked up at Francis with skepticism.

"Really?"

"Yes! They would love to babysit the two of them!"

"Who are they?"

"Trust me, I have known Michelle and her friends for years! I practically grew up with the girls. They would completely fawn over them!"

"Are these girls Peafoul too? Peafoul can't hunt and should have migrated long ago. Who even knows why you're still here."

Francis's blue eyes dodged to the ground.

"I am still looking for Jeanne. …But my friends are not Peafoul. They can hunt."

Arthur's huge eyebrows furrowed at that statement as he was reminded just how mentally unbalanced Francis was when they first met. Maybe that was just him panicking, but maybe not. The Peacock  _did_ risk his life in trying to hide them from the dragon. But did that mean he could trust his children with this Bird? The grating feeling in Arthur's gut reminded him that time was also an enemy here. If he wanted to keep up appearances, he had to be at the family gathering on time. Although it pained him, Francis's offer was his best option now –his only option.

"Fine. Take us to your friends, and the I'll decide if I'll let them babysit them."

"Thank you, Arthur! You will not be disappointed! Now, we just have to get you out of town."

* * *

"Centaur! I saw! I saw!"

"No Centaur live here. Not resident."

"Not resident! Not resident! No punishment!"

"Fly. Get Natalya. Until they leave, wait."

"But so hungry! So hungry!"

"Wait."


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalya makes another appearance, and Francis introduces his babysitters.

"I don't see them. I don't!"  
  
"You better not have been lying to me about such easy prey."

Natalya's feathers ruffled in frustration at the two others.

"Will come. Patience."

"But hungry! So hungry!"

"Raivis! I swear if you keep repeating part of what you've already said at the end of your sentences, I will cut out your tongue with this knife. And that goes for you too, Eduard. You're some sort of genius, but when you don't speak properly you sound like an idiot. The least you could do while living with humans is pick up proper grammar. You don't have any excuses now."

Raivis and Eduard tried to hide the fear in their eyes as they had witnessed Natalya's knife skills up close on another hunt like this, driven by hungry desperation. Night was just settling when there came a rustling down below.

"I hear them! I...think they're coming," Raivis said, oh so subtly recovering from his verbal tic.

"We go, I-I mean, we _will_ go down first and get in position. You will stay here and distract them while we make our move."

The two boys flew across the way and concealed themselves behind some evergreen branches. Natalya would have to distract the prey just enough for them to take their eyes off what was in front of them and Raivis and Eduard would attack. Simple enough. Much less energy than when she had to do the distracting and the attacking when she would hunt alone. Although she hated working with them, they could catch more prey this way.

The crunching through the snow crescendoed until the targets Eduard and Raivis told her about were in sight. As they reported, it was a small Centaur and a human she didn't recognize from the town, however, what they failed to mention was that they were accompanied by that ridiculous Peacock from town and a Bird Chick. Still, something caught her eye on the smallest member of their entourage. She couldn't believe her eyes, but the ribbon on the little Bird's collar looked just like the ribbon she used to have -the one she gave to….

Her heart stopped. It had to be the same Eaglet! And that Centaur Calf was the good big brother protecting him! And that the "human" must be the Werecat in disguise -the one with claws that could rip all of them to shreds. Not to mention that if they attacked any member of the town, even if it was that Peacock, they would lose their walking-around-town-in-public privileges and be reduced to sneaking and hiding like the other criminal Birds. All in all, this was a disaster waiting to happen.

By the time she had connected all the dots, they had already walked into the trap and Raivis and Eduard were preparing to attack. She was torn. She knew that no matter how hungry she was, she couldn't eat these creatures, but she knew that Eduard and Raivis probably wouldn't understand. However, she could try to call it off now and then make up some explanation later.

She waved from her place high in the tree, trying to get the attention of her two partners in crime. They just stared at her with confused expressions that bordered on angry. Birds were famous for their uncontrolled tempers. They wanted her to fulfill her part of the plan, and she could feel a little of that temper rise up in herself from the frustration of the situation. So she tried bigger motions, maybe even convince them that the prey was more dangerous than they thought, but, while doing a more exaggerated motion, her hand hit the trunk of the tree and sent some snow falling to the ground. The group bellow heard it and turned around by instinct to see what made the noise when Eduard and Raivis saw the opening they had been waiting for and leapt.

"Watch out!" Natalya screamed, as she flung herself off the branch.

In the confusion, the "human" was pinned to the ground by Raivis, but only for a moment. He revealed his true feline form and kicked Raivis off him who hit the ground hard. Eduard went for the Centaur, but Natalya kamikaze-style rammed into him from above and sent him sprawling. Recovering herself to a stand, she knew she only had a matter of time before Raivis and Eduard could turn on her for betraying them or just blind fury from the pain.

"You're lucky that's my favorite ribbon! I'll hold them off!"

She shot the Centaur a smile before turning back to the other Birds who had just picked themselves up. Natalya bristled with anticipation and realized she would enjoy putting these two back in their places.

"Follow moi!" the Peacock shouted, leading the rest of the group in a sprint away from danger.

* * *

"Ugf!" Arthur cried out as he had shifted back to his human form in mid-stride.

The group turned to look at him on his knees, brushing his scraped-up hands that only moments ago had protective padding.

"Are you okay?"

"I was going to say I think we lost them, but I was ...distracted."

Francis noticed how he dodged the question completely but decided not to press the matter.

"Come. We still need to get to Michelle."

Francis walked in front, keeping a steady pace, with his tail feathers occasionally carving patterns in the powdering of snow while Arthur and Matthew followed behind.

"Can you believe Natalya saved us?"

"I'm not sure why she likes Alfred so much, but I'm just thankful we have her on our side. Although, I'm sure I could have taken those two Birds by myself. They were a bit young and looked scrawny."

"I 'ave seen those three around town. The boys always gave me the impression that they would be the ones to get the last pickings of any meal, like they are low on the pecking order, but the girl always scared me."

Francis chuckled nervously as if he were remembering a rather specific time. Arthur rolled his eyes. Please. Once Natalya saw his claws, she crumbled like any other prey did. Although she did almost kill Alfred afterward. Natalya wasn't fearsome in his mind, just a slight mystery.

"How is Alfred?" the Werecat asked, turning his thoughts to things that mattered.

Matthew shrugged. Alfred looked like he was close to dozing right then and there on Matthew's back so Matthew tried to keep quiet.

"He's not shivering as badly. Those thicker clothes are just what he needed."

Arthur was secretly enjoying his new sweater as well. It was surely doing its job of keeping him warm. ...Although nothing that disgustingly  _human_  could replace his fur.

"Well, he still needs to get somewhere warm."

"Oh, when we get there, it will be plenty warm for 'im," Francis said. "Trust me."

' _That is what I am trying to decide,_ ' Arthur thought.

He still was trying to come to terms with the fact that he was willingly going somewhere with this questionably-sane Bird. Not to mention he wasn't sure what sort of girls this Francis would be friends with.

"Just where does Michelle live anyway? I don't normally come this far east."

"She lives...near the 'ot springs."

"Hot springs? Hot springs are dangerous. Something about the water being toxic?"

"Non! The water from 'ot springs is very clean and drinkable. The water itself is not why 'ot springs are dangerous."

"Then why?"

"Look! We are 'ere!"

Sure enough, the trees disappeared to reveal in the distance a few huge pools of water indenting the flat plain, steam rising in lazy trails from the surface of the deep ebony water. Francis stopped walking toward the springs for a moment to address the rest of the party.

"I am going to get Michelle. Stay 'ere or you might scare 'er, oui?"

Arthur's mind was reeling as he was trying to figure out what sort of Bird would live near a somehow-dangerous hot spring and would be spooked easily. All he could do was sit in anticipation as Francis neared the water slowly, calling out Michelle's name repeatedly.

"Michelle? It is Francis. I 'ave come back to hear your lovely voice once again!"

He about reached the water's edge when something launched out of the spring and rocketed into Francis, knocking him to the ground. Arthur had never seen the creature before, but the long, fish-like tail and humanoid torso was hard to confuse. Arthur was about to leap into action when he heard laughing coming from both Francis and the mermaid.

"Francis, you came back to see us!"

"Yes, I did! I guess I could not stay away from your beautiful faces any longer. Oh! I would like you to meet my friends."

"May we eat them?"

"You are funny, Michelle, but I do not think you would want to eat them anyway."

Francis picked himself up with the mermaid held bridal-style in his arms. Then he rejoined the group.

Of course! _That_  was why hot springs were dangerous. Mermaids lived in them. Arthur was always reluctant to admit he didn't know something because his knowledge of the forest and its inhabitants was usually quite vast. However, he was considerably lacking when it came to anything about merfolk. It was rather ingenious, their choice of hiding spot. The springs of fresh water were drinkable and warm enough for them to survive the winters as well as tempting enough for prey to wander close for the same reasons. It was the perfect home and perfect trap. The mermaid was even able to launch herself to Francis while he was still about ten feet away from the pool's boundary. Arthur felt sorry for anyone foolish enough to get that close who wasn't apparently already friends with them.

Arthur was incredibly uneasy with Francis holding such a dangerous creature so close to them, but he tried to be brave and stand his ground. If it came down to it, he doubted they were still in range for other mermaids to leap at them and also doubted this one could wiggle back to the safety of the hot spring from this distance. Come to think of it, Michelle was in a rather vulnerable position for a mermaid. She was putting a lot of trust in Francis so Arthur hoped that his leap of faith would also prove worthwhile.

"Michelle, this is Arthur. 'e is a Werecat and a friend of mine who needs to ask you a favor."

"Oh?"

Her big eyes roamed him over with an undertone of sizing him up to eat, but she made no move to do anything about it.

The mermaid was about five feet long from head to tail. Arthur had no idea how old she was and, combined with his lack of knowledge about mermaids anyway, had little guess as to if she was big or small for a mermaid. She had no hair on her head, but had some sort of head adornment in the form of a long fin that collapsed and then fanned open. It likely opened when she was swimming and assisted her in underwater locomotion. Her gills were imbedded in her cheeks, but she must have also had some way to breathe out of water. Arthur suspected she took in air through her nose then processed it through some form of small lungs from how often she was taking breaths. Her tail was scaled but the scales were smaller and less defined than he pictured, making them seem more like sharks' skin or dolphins' skin. The tail was also not as beautifully colored as his imagination would have liked, but maybe the scales shimmered a little more when there was more than the moon shining on them.

"Hello, Michelle," Arthur managed, as he took in the sight of a mermaid.

She sort of rolled her eyes as if she were bored with the prospect of meeting food she couldn't eat, but then her gaze was drawn to what was standing behind boring Arthur.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you, ma'am. My name is Matthew!"

"I'm Awfred!"

The mermaid's eyes got big and a huge smile drew her lips back to reveal pointed teeth. Arthur was about to dive into action when she clapped her webbed hands together and awed.

"They're so  _adorable!_ Omigosh!"

"I knew you would like them, Michelle."

"The little one is so cute! Oh! He has cute, little fluffy wings!"

"Yes, yes. Arthur is in charge of them, but 'e needs someone to watch them for a little while."

Michelle gasped dramatically and practically shook with delight.

"May we watch them! Oh please, oh please!"

"I do not know. It is up to Arthur."

"Please, Mr. Arthur!"

"Uh…." the Werecat stammered.

"I do not know Michelle," Francis interjected. "These two will be a lot of work. The little Eaglet will need to be fed meat."

"He will get the first of anything we hunt!"

" _And_  they are quite vulnerable being so small," he said, while scratching his beard in mock thought.

"They will be protected and monitored day and night. Please, Mr. Arthur! We'll play with them and sing them to sleep every night! It will be an honor!"

Michelle's face was contorted with pure sincerity, but Francis could see the strain of the decision was still evident on Arthur's face. Then Arthur noticed Michelle was playing peek-a-boo with Alfred. Peaking out from behind her hands with a silly face and ducking back. You would never know that she was a powerful predator. Alfred. It was always Alfred. He giggled and joined in too, hiding behind Matthew's back and then leaning around and sticking his tongue out at her. Matthew even played along, turning around and ridding Alfred of a place to hide which made Alfred only giggle more and cover his face with his wings in desperation.

"And I will stay with them too," Francis said softly, yanking Arthur's attention away.

The Peacock smiled and repeated that dreaded phrase, "Trust me."

Lately, for Arthur, it had been a question of whether it was smart for others to trust him blindly. Why would a Centaur Calf and a Bird Eaglet even consider wanting to be around him? That was odd enough, but it wasn't nearly as scary as putting his blind trust in someone else. And with things so precious. Alfred and Matthew were his world. If anything happened to them, he wasn't sure what he would do with himself. Yet, here he was having to hand over his purpose in life to a stranger. He couldn't breathe.

Francis sighed, balancing Michelle in one arm just long enough to work a necklace off and hand it to Arthur. The Werecat looked at it briefly, registering that it was a carved cross hanging on a piece of leather rope.

"Jeanne made it for me."

Arthur frowned. Where was this going?

"You can keep it as insurance that your children will not be 'armed in any way while you are gone. You will return it when you come back and see that I 'ave fulfilled my promise."

Arthur ran his finger over the wood as he knew how much this must have meant to Francis. Losing Jeanne in the fire nearly drove him insane. He knew that this simple wooden cross represented something important and treasured.

He took a deep breath before finally submitting.

"You may care for them."

His rough voice was evidence of his sore and clenched throat, but Michelle was overjoyed. Francis started walking to the hot spring, calling for Matthew to follow, but Matthew only took one step. He looked back to Arthur who nodded reluctantly and only then did Matthew nod back and continue following the Peacock.

Arthur stepped back one step, another. He watched his children grow smaller into the distance until he clenched the necklace in his hand and finally amputated himself away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Species Bio: Merfolk  
> Just to get it out of the way, Mermaids live in freshwater such as rivers and hot springs while mermen live in salt water. (I doubt we will be meeting any mermen.) Mermen and mermaids come together only in the spring to mate. Merfolk typically only have two subspecies: more mammal-like and more fish-like, which are differentiated by whether their tails swim by pushing the water up and down (like dolphins) or side to side (like sharks and most other fish) respectively. They are carnivores but Mermen's and Mermaids' hunting strategies differ because of where they live. Mermen hunt in groups like some sharks which typically end in feeding frenzies as they follow the prey (typically fish and dolphins) wherever they go. Mermaids hunt independently typically having territories that take up certain sections of the rivers. During the winter when the rivers start to become too cold to live in, the mermaids migrate upriver and eventually cross a section of land until they can get to the hot springs where they stay and hunt together until the rivers thaw again. It's a dangerous journey and many creatures who would normally be prey to mermaids exploit the mermaids' vulnerable states during the crossing and hunt them. This migration will be explained more in detail later by Francis. The last bit of trivia is that Mermaids have what seem to be the only built-in morals of any creature in the form of their absolute refusal to harm/hunt any child of any species. (Although they aren't typically used as babysitters.)
> 
> So I know that this is not the end of the story, but this is all that I wrote, so...the end? Thanks for enduring me reposting a fic that I wrote four years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> I was a little bored and decided to start reposting some of my old fanfics on AO3. I don't plan to do any editing except for any typo I might catch here or there. Will probably post one chapter a week.
> 
> If you really can't stand the wait, you can read the whole thing right now on my fanfic account here: http://bit.ly/2okLuVC
> 
> Thanks for reading.  
> Looking forward to it.


End file.
